


King's Game

by ThePM



Series: After the Azure Moon Sets [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Almyra (Fire Emblem), Drama & Romance, F/M, Fake Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romance, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 72,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePM/pseuds/ThePM
Summary: The end of the war approaches, and Claude's ambitions evolve. He'll need the perfect partner to win the crown, and he knows just the person. Too bad she's not interested in being queen, but they don't call him the Master Tactician for nothing. Now he just has to make sure all his secrets don't ruin their chance at the throne--and their happiness.Contains spoilers, particularly for the Blue Lion route.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Series: After the Azure Moon Sets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817989
Comments: 72
Kudos: 58
Collections: Hilclaude Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you ever wished you could read a novel-length fic about Claude and Hilda, here you go. I seem to be incapable of writing short fics.
> 
> This contains spoilers, specifically for the Blue Lions route. The original version has stronger language and explicit scenes, so I've posted that over at my website adpauli dot com/fanfics/kings-game.

Claude stared at the letter in his hands. The paper rattled with his trembling. Dimitri and Teach were alive and at Garreg Mach monastery. Claude’s pulse thundered in his ears. After all this time, five years of war and horror, hope was on the horizon.

“Summon the lords,” he said to his page, who went running from the room.

Claude put down the letter from his spy at Garreg Mach and took deep breaths until his hands steadied. Hope. Peace.

Hilda.

Everything was possible now. He just needed to confirm that Teach and Dimitri were alive and well, preferably with his own eyes. His dream, which had grown throughout the years, was within reach. The Alliance was too small, not influential enough for his purposes. But with a unified Fódlan and a sympathetic ruler in Almyra, the world would be an entirely different place.

But first to recall his friends. He wrote furiously, even to Lorenz to give him fair warning. Although Gloucester had long ago defected to support the Empire, Lorenz would be able to see the truth of the overall situation even if he could not change his own.

Claude saved the best for last. He and Hilda had been exchanging letters for the last five years, ever since they had fled Garreg Mach for Derdriu and Holst had fetched her home. She had gathered information for him, even isolated at House Goneril as she was, and sent it in cleverly coded missives disguised as flirtations.

Although sometimes he wondered if they weren’t flirtations in truth. His body temperature rose as he remembered her insinuations. Their hijinks during their academy days were some of his fondest memories—she was one of the first true friends he’d ever had. He was close with his other classmates, too, but with her, he felt understood. She alone was his equal.

And now he had an excuse to recall her to his side that not even an overprotective older brother could countermand. He dashed off the letter, careful not to let his anticipation seep through. His letter to Lord Holst was even more businesslike.

There. Nothing more to be done but wait. His heart still did backflips.

He shoved thoughts of Hilda from his mind and retreated to his bedchamber to dress for council. Before pulling on a clean shirt, he flexed a little in the mirror. Yes, he was more muscular than he’d been the last time he’d seen her. More hair on his chest. She wouldn’t arrive for at least a couple of weeks—plenty of time to grow one of those jaw beards the men of Fódlan seemed to favor. He had been a boy when they’d parted, but no longer. Not that she’d ever treated him differently just because she was older.

Enough of that. Five years was a long time. She might have changed. War changed everyone. All that mattered was she was still his friend.

He finished dressing and strode to the council chamber. Already he counted the days until his friends returned. When they did, he’d put his plans in motion and change the world.


	2. Chapter 2

“Duke Riegan,” the page said. “A bird just arrived from the gatekeepers. Lady Hilda Goneril is on her way.”

Claude looked up from the stack of papers. The others had arrived days ago. She was the last.

“Tell the head chef the banquet is on,” he said. The page closed the study door, and Claude took a deep breath as he stood from his desk. A quick trip to his bath chamber mirror confirmed his appearance was up to standards, but he ran his fingers through his hair anyway and cleaned up the line of his beard with a few extra strokes of his razor.

He’d dallied long enough. Factoring in the time messages took to get from the city gate to the council house plus how long he’d fussed with his appearance, she’d be here within the quarter hour. Maybe he should have told the others so they could greet her together, but he wanted this moment to himself. All the better to gauge her and slot her into his plans.

Or so he tried to convince himself.

Claude made his way to the entrance of the council house, trying not to rush. The guards stood at attention. He descended the steps and stood and their base. Minutes passed, his gaze riveted to the compound’s gates.

The rattle of the carriage preceded its appearance. The black and blush of House Goneril tinted every line of the conveyance. It pulled up, and a footman rushed forward to open the door and put out the step.

Hilda emerged wearing an outfit that reinforced her feminine charms. Claude’s gaze dipped to her generous cleavage before he could restrain himself. She didn’t seem to notice. They looked at each other for a long moment. His nerves buzzed. She appeared more mature, more beautiful, the look in her eyes wiser. Sure, they’d written frequently, but was that really enough to pick up where they’d left off?

“Hello, Claude,” she said with a slow smile. “It’s been a while.”

“Hello, Hilda.” Claude smiled in return and bowed with a flourish. “So it has. Too long.”

He offered his hand, and she took it as she daintily disembarked. If he hadn’t seen her on the battlefield, he would have thought she was the most delicate of ladies. Her arm threaded through his. Warmth spread through him as she looked up at him.

“I’m pleased Holst let you come,” he said.

Hilda snorted. “From what I understand, it was more of a summons than an invitation.”

“I may have worded my letter strongly. I had to make sure he’d release you, after all.”

“And why’s that?” Her smile grew impish.

Something inside him quivered at the sight of that smile. He recognized it from when they’d stolen cake from the kitchen or broken into the wine stores at the academy. Perhaps not so much had changed, after all.

“Because I need your help.” It was the truth, nothing more.

“Oh. So you expect me to work. What fun.”

“It could be, if you let it.”

“Now I’m even more sure it’ll be boring.”

Claude chuckled. “There’s never a boring moment with you.”

“Flatterer.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He escorted her to her chambers, feeling lighter than he could remember. “In here,” he said as he led her into the sitting room. “I hope you’ll be comfortable. We’re holding a feast tonight, so I’ll give you some time to freshen up.”

“Wait.” Hilda grabbed his hand, and he froze. Their gazes locked. Her lips parted, and the moment stretched.

“Yes?” he finally asked.

“Oh!” Hilda released him as if he were a hot pan on a stove and went over to one of the trunks the footmen had just delivered. She pulled out five boxes, piled them on the sitting room table, and pushed them toward him.

“What are these?” he asked, taking a seat.

“Birthday presents. One for every year we didn’t get to celebrate together.”

“You wrote me a beautiful letter every year on my birthday.”

Hilda blushed, and Claude’s heart skipped a beat. Had she always been so lovely? Although he did miss her ponytails.

“Oh, hush,” she said. “You know I like to make things.”

“So this is actually about you and not my birthday.”

“You’re awful.” She smiled as she said it. “I guess you haven’t changed at all.”

He winked at her. “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

“Anyway.” She sat at the table across from him. “You don’t have to open them now, if you don’t want to.”

As if he could say no. “We have some time. I, uh, didn’t tell the others you were here yet.”

“Why not?” She raised her eyebrow.

Claude didn’t reply. Let her read into it however she would.

“Ugh, you and your secrets.” She sighed. “Open this one first.”

It was a bit of dangly jewelry that resembled an earring, but with no way to thread it through his ear.

“I didn’t know you’d cut off your little braid thing,” she said, cheeks red and eyes downcast. “I thought this would be a nice little ornament.”

Claude had cut off the braid when he came of age, per Almyran tradition. Judith did it in the place of his mother. “I still love it. It’s beautiful.”

Next was a hand-knit scarf. “For when you ride your wyvern,” she said.

He unwrapped a leather belt, tooled with designs of deer, his Crest, and wyverns. The craftsmanship was incredible. He stared at it, speechless.

“I’m sorry, I don’t usually do tooled leather,” she said.

He ran his fingers over the decoration. “Are you kidding me? I love it. This must have taken ages. I wouldn’t have expected this from someone who doesn’t like to work.”

Hilda blushed again, a soft smile on her face. If that’s what she looked like when she was truly happy, he wanted her to be happy all the time.

Next was a handkerchief embroidered with a golden deer and the Crest of Riegan. The stitching was perfect, the stag noble. Claude’s vision grew misty as all the old academy memories came flooding back.

The final box contained a woven bracelet half as wide as his thumb was long. Small gold, green, and black glass beads adorned matching threads, giving it just a tiny bit of shine. In Almyra, bracelets were only gifted to family members—or people you wanted to join your family. Even though he knew she had no idea, his heart lurched.

“Do you like it?” she asked softly. Funny, he’d never heard Hilda sound shy before.

“I think it’s incredible. Here, would you put it on? Should I take it off when I bathe? I need to know how to make it last.”

“I can always make you another one.”

Only if she lived through this war. The thought sobered him, and he pushed it away. He’d ensure she survived. Besides, she’d told him once she didn’t see the point of dying for a cause. She’d run if she were ever in true danger.

Claude pulled off his glove, and she did the same so she could work the clasps. Her fingertips brushed the inside of his wrist, and goosebumps rose on his skin. When she finished fastening the bracelet, their fingers met. Neither of them pulled away. He gazed into her eyes. It was still there, that strange pull, like she had her own special gravity. Did she feel it, too?

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you. I’ll treasure each and every one of these.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her blush deepened. That had to be a good sign. He stopped squeezing, but neither of them let go.

“I missed you.” It almost hurt to say it, like pressing an old bruise he’d only now discovered.

“I never wanted to leave.”

Was it his imagination, or did her grip tighten?

“I suppose I could have stood up to your brother and insisted you stay,” he said with a sigh, “but it didn’t seem like a good idea to piss off one of my best generals.”

Hilda shuddered. “I understand. Besides, Holst can be scary.”

“I hope you didn’t suffer too much.” He put his other hand on top of hers. She always loomed so large in his memories he’d forgotten how small she truly was.

She made no move to pull away. Her brow furrowed, and an oddly naked expression crossed her face. “I hope you’ve been okay all by yourself. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for your grandfather’s memorial.”

“You’re here now.”

“And here I’ll stay.”

Too many things swirled in Claude’s chest for him to name or express. Being in Hilda’s presence was like standing in the sun after weeks of rain. All he wanted was to soak it up. But she also stirred his sense of mischief. Together, they could throw people for a loop. Hopefully the same went for enemy armies.

The thought jolted him back to reality. “I really should be going. There are a few things I need to do before the banquet.”

“A banquet?” Her eyes lit up then her expression dimmed. “Not a feast, so no dancing.”

His chest tightened. “Dancing didn’t seem appropriate since there’s a war on. But when this is over, I promise you a feast.”

“I’m writing that down and having you sign in it blood so you don’t conveniently forget.”

“What? I love feasts. I’d be feasting right now if I could.”

“I want dancing.”

“You’ll get dancing.”

She crossed her arms. He wished she wouldn’t. It deepened the cleft between her breasts.

“I really do have to go.” He picked up his gloves and glanced at the bracelet on his wrist. His heart jumped. On impulse, he grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. Her skin was smooth and warm. Then he forced himself to leave. Before he closed the door behind him, he caught a glimpse of her cradling the hand he’d kissed to her chest, her eyes wide.

Claude closed the door and leaned against it. A passing servant gave him an odd look, but he didn’t care. He chuckled to himself and smiled.

The door flew open behind him, and he stumbled backward into Hilda’s sitting room. His heel caught on something, but before he could fall, something stopped him. He blinked up into Hilda’s face. She’d caught him and scooped him up into her arms, holding him like a bride. Heat flooded his cheeks. They had to be at least as red as hers.

“Good to know you still have my back,” he said, plastering a smile on his face.

Hilda quickly put him down and straightened her skirt. “You forgot to take your presents with you.”

“Oh, sorry.” Damn it, he’d been distracted, and now she’d think he didn’t like them.

“It’s not like you to be absentminded.” She frowned. “You must be under more stress than I thought.”

He picked up the gifts—they’d fallen to the floor when she’d caught him—and moved into the corridor. “It _has_ been five years. Thanks again for the amazing gifts. I’ll see you soon.”

Concern filled her expression, but she nodded and waved to him before she shut the door. He stood for a few moments, cursing himself. It hadn’t even been an hour and he’d made a fool of himself and hurt her feelings. This wasn’t going well. Damn it. He’d just have to make up for it at the banquet.


	3. Chapter 3

Claude hurried to his room and stowed the gifts except for the handkerchief, which he put in his pocket, and the bracelet, which remained on his wrist. He missed his Golden Deer days. At least most of his classmates had been able to return to Derdriu. He sent pages to inform his friends of the banquet while he made final preparations.

When it was time for the meal to begin, Claude waited in the wings while everyone was seated per his plan. As much as he wished he could have his friends to himself, they had other jobs to do tonight, whether they knew it or not. Raphael and Ignatz were seated with the foot soldiers, Leonie with the cavalry, and Lysithea was with the other nobility. Hilda would sit at Claude’s right, between him and Margrave Edmund.

Claude craned his neck and peeked down the hall. Sure enough, Hilda appeared just as most everyone else was seated. She wore a raspberry-colored, off-the-shoulder gown with a sweetheart neckline and gauzy skirts. Her hair was piled on top of her head and held in place with two black lacquered pins, exposing her pale, slender neck.

A buzzing sensation flooded him as she drew near. He stepped into view and blocked her way. She smiled coyly up at him.

“I have something for you,” he said. “It’s not as wonderful as what you gave me, but I hope you’ll like it anyway.”

Claude held out a velvet-covered box. Inside was a simple—but very expensive—necklace of rubies, pink sapphires, and onyx. Through sheer luck, it happened to go perfectly with her gown.

“Oh, Claude.” Hilda looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“I actually bought this a while ago and planned to give it to you later,” he said, “but now seemed a better time.”

She turned so he could put it on her. If only he wasn’t wearing gloves. It was all too easy to imagine what that creamy throat would feel like beneath his fingers. The hair on her neck stood on end at his touch, and a flash of heat seared through him. Did she enjoy his touch? He risked a caress as he pulled his hands away, and a tremor ran through her body.

“It’s beautiful.” Hilda said, fingertips resting on the necklace. “Thank you so much.”

He smiled. “Hopefully, it makes up for all your birthdays I missed.”

Claude offered his arm, and she accepted it. Although she was shorter, she easily matched his stride as the entered the banquet hall. It was only as they neared the high table that he realized the place of honor in his court was the same one traditionally occupied by a wife.

Judging by the glance Hilda threw him, she’d realized it too. The looks on some of the nobles’ faces—particularly the ones with eligible daughters—reinforced the idea. Claude plastered a grin on his face. Let them think what they liked. The Gonerils were one of the most powerful families in the Alliance. Few were brave enough to badmouth Lord Holst’s dear sister.

“I need you to try to convince Margrave Edmund to summon Marianne,” Claude murmured. “He wouldn’t let her come and fight.”

“He’s the most stubborn man in the Alliance, after my brother.” Hilda sighed.

“Lorenz didn’t make it, either.”

“I knew he wouldn’t. He told me what was happening with his family when I sent him his birthday present.”

Claude’s stomach twisted. Of course, she’d made gifts for all her former classmates. She’d been bored out of her mind, and she cared about her friends. He’d been silly to think he was special.

She took her seat gracefully, and he pushed in her chair. It seemed natural to have her at his right hand. Interesting. He didn’t sit just yet. A servant filled his wine goblet, and he raised it to the crowd.

“Tonight,” he called to those gathered, “we gather to celebrate the return of old friends. Not only our friends who have helped us get through this war, but friends we thought departed who have returned. The course of this war is changing. We have reached a turning point, and the Leicester Alliance will rise to the occasion. There will be peace in Fódlan again. We will ensure it!”

Those gathered cheered, and there were several toasts. Claude tossed back his wine, accepted a refill, and took his seat.

“Meaning what, exactly?” Hilda asked the moment he sat down.

“Meaning Dimitri’s alive. So is Teach. They’ve set up base at Garreg Mach.”

Her eyes widened. Good. She understood the implications, too.

“Yep.” He sipped his wine. “If they can unify the Faerghus lords…”

Hilda’s gaze grew distant as she looked out over the gathering. “Peace. It feels like forever.”

“That’s assuming they don’t fight us.”

She snapped toward him, her eyes wide. “The professor wouldn’t fight us, would he? We’ve been resisting Edelgard this entire time.”

“He’s going to fight Edelgard, so why not us? We’re not his students, and he knows I support Edelgard’s ideals, if not her methods.”

Hilda folded her hands in her lap and frowned down at them.

“Come on,” he said with a lazy smile. “It’ll be all right. Smile for the crowd. Besides, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

She raised her eyebrow at him. “You did _not_ just tell me to smile or talk about wrinkles.”

“Um, no?”

“Oh, good. I would have hated to think you were treating me a certain way or telling me certain things just because I’m a woman.”

Claude swallowed. This was new behavior from her. Although, come to think of it, Ingrid had hated when he’d said similar things to her back at the academy. He wasn’t sexist, was he? Prejudice based on gender was just as bad as racism. The matter merited reflection.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he said.

“Better.” Hilda smirked. “Now you need to ease my righteous anger.”

Yes, she was different from when they were at the academy, but he liked it. He took her hand from her lap and kissed her knuckles again. “You, Lady Goneril, are without peer.”

“That’s better.” Her expression grew smug, but pink stained her cheeks.

They gazed at each other, smiling. Claude forgot to let go of her hand. It wasn’t until Judith, seated on Claude’s left, cleared her throat that he came back to himself.

“The meal is on its way, boy,” Judith said. “And best watch yourself—everyone else is.”

Hilda must have heard her as well, for she demurely slipped her hand from his and picked up her wine goblet. She turned toward Margrave Edmund and began to make small talk. Claude wiped the annoyance from his face and smiled at Judith.

“So, she going to be the new duchess?” Judith asked.

Heat rushed to Claude’s cheeks. “She’s a friend, nothing more.”

“Marriage between the Gonerils and the Riegans would be politically advantageous.”

“True, but better to make ties with someone who’s not already an ally.”

Judith smirked. “Then you should have proposed to Empress Hresvelg.”

Wine almost came out Claude’s nose as he choked. Thing was, Judith wasn’t wrong. Claude had actually considered that path early on, but such a proposal would have reinforced the very framework Edelgard was trying to dismantle.

“I’d propose to Blaiddyd, but I don’t think he’s interested in me,” Claude said with a smile.

“You don’t seem to be interested in anyone but Lady Goneril, judging by the way you look at her. I hear she’s quite eligible. Better make your move before someone else does.”

Claude sighed. “Not content with giving me only martial advice, I see.”

“I only give advice when I think you’re going to make a stupid mistake,” Judith said with a small smile.

Claude shook his head and took another sip of his wine. There was a war on. If Holst was going to marry off his sister—or if Hilda was interested in getting married—it would have happened by now.

Then the food arrived, and all other thoughts vanished from his head. The buzz of conversation in the hall muted as people set about eating the meal. Claude and Hilda swapped morsels so they could each have more of their favorite dishes, an activity that only increased during dessert. Her eyes sparkled as he held his fork to her lips so she could have a bite of his chocolate tart. Judith uttered a long-suffering sigh on Claude’s left.

After the meal, people took their beverages and began to circulate. Hilda took Claude’s arm and made a beeline for Lysithea. The two women hugged, and Hilda chattered at Lysithea as Claude spotted the others heading their direction.

Then a minor noble from the northeast asked for a moment of Claude’s attention. That led to another conversation, and soon Claude was across the room from Hilda and his friends. She threw him a rueful glance over her shoulder. He shrugged in return. Later, when the war was over, there’d be time to be with the people he cared about.

Hilda caught up with him when the evening wound down and people left to go to bed. She gestured toward the door with the wine bottle in her hand. “Need a break?” she asked.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Do I ever. Come on, I know a spot.”

Claude took her free hand and led her back to his chambers.

“Wow, you move quickly,” Hilda said.

“That’s not—” Although his imagination suddenly supplied ways they could use his bedroom.

Claude took a deep breath. “There are tons of secret passages leading from my chambers all over the compound. The entrance for the one I want is in my study.”

“Aren’t you full of secrets. As usual.”

He chuckled and shook his head as he led her into the room. This, more than any other place, still smelled like his grandfather, with its dark wood and myriad books. He paused for a moment to let her soak it all in before triggering the panel behind one of the bookcases. She stared into the darkness as he prepared a lantern and grabbed a cloak.

Hands clasped, they plunged into the passageway. The lantern lit their path as they wound between the thick stone walls of the compound, the air heavy with the scent of dust and rock. The fresh air when they emerged seemed all the sweeter.

“What is this place?” Hilda asked as she leaned over the railing.

They stood on a corner of the roof, where they had a clear view of the bay. The cold light of the stars danced on the surface of the water. Claude lit a nearby brazier and wrapped the cloak around Hilda.

“It’s an escape,” he said. “Figuratively, because it’s a nice little refuge where no one can find me, and literally. If we take this route across the roof, we’ll come to a set of spiral stairs that lead to tunnels that let out near the docks.”

They sat on the lone bench and passed the wine back and forth, talking about what they’d learned at the banquet. Hilda had confirmed that Dimitri’s return wasn’t yet common knowledge. Unfortunately, she’d made no progress in getting Margrave Edmund to release Marianne.

“I heard you talking to Lady Daphnel about marriage proposals,” Hilda said.

Claude feigned nonchalance. “She was surprised you weren’t married yet.”

“Me, too.”

His head snapped toward her, his eyes wide.

Hilda arched a brow. “I’m getting old to get married and have children, you know. Count Gloucester actually wrote to my brother trying to arrange a union between me and Lorenz.”

“What? Would you actually be all right spending your life with Lorenz?”

“Why not? He’d spoil me rotten. I’d never have to lift a finger.”

“And that’s what you want?”

Hilda looked out over the bay, cheeks pink from cold and wine. “I don’t know. I’m tired of Fódlan. I want to see the world, experience the ways different cultures dress so I can come up with new ideas for accessories.”

Claude’s heart fizzed. If Dimitri could keep Edelgard at bay, if he was the man Claude thought he was, and if the plan worked out…maybe Hilda would be interested in coming with him when he left.

The wine had gone to Claude’s head. The world seemed brighter than it had in a long time. He gazed at the woman sitting beside him. They’d been apart for years, and yet now they were together, it felt like no time had passed at all. Except, maybe the fact she was more beautiful than ever.

“There wasn’t dancing tonight,” Claude said.

Hilda giggled. “I know. Just how much wine have you had?”

“Enough. Do you want to dance now?”

“What? There’s no music.”

“Do we need music? We have the beating of our hearts to set the tempo.”

Claude stood and offered her his hand. Hilda took it, and he swept her into his arms. They made a circuit of the small area, moving slowly. He pressed on the small of her back, and she stepped so close their bodies brushed. The feel of her—petite and yet strong—went to his head more than any wine. She gazed up into his eyes, lips parted.

A bell somewhere in the city chimed midnight. Claude groaned and rested his forehead against her crown. He had to get up early for a war council.

Hilda stepped away and stroked his cheek. “You have to go, don’t you.”

He nodded.

She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

“Maybe just a few more moments.” The winter night was cold. He shrugged out of his coat, draped it over her shoulders, and wrapped his arms around her from behind to keep her warm. She leaned against him, the back of her head resting on his chest. Her eyes closed as she inhaled.

“So warm,” she murmured. “It smells like you, too.”

“I bathed, I swear.”

“It smells good. You’ve always smelled good.”

His face heated. He wasn’t aware she’d noticed. “You do, too.”

Hilda turned in his arms, face titled toward him. It would be so easy to bend down and kiss her. Instead, Judith’s words about marriage and his thoughts about war collided inside his mind.

“I really should go,” he said. “I’ll walk you back to your rooms.”

Claude kept his arm around her as they navigated the passageway and then the corridors to her suite. Only then did she return his jacket and cloak. Gods, she really did look fantastic in that dress. It hugged all the right curves.

“Rest well,” he said. “It’s good to have you back.”

Hilda reached out and squeezed his arm. “Rely on your friends a little, all right? You’re not alone. We want to help.”

Claude nodded and walked away before his heart could convince him otherwise.


	4. Chapter 4

Hilda knocked on the door to Claude’s study and let herself in before he could answer. She’d been in Derdriu for over three months now, after all, and she knew his habits. They’d spent all day in war councils discussing what to do about Dimitri’s march toward Gronder Field, and in the end, they’d decided to march as well, if only to prove their alliance with Faerghus. Claude was sure to want to discuss their plan again before the morning, despite the time, especially after she’d spent the last several hours discussing their strategy with Leonie and the others.

What she found was Claude slumped over his desk. Papers were strewn across the surface, and ink smeared his cheek. His fancy coat and cape lay in a pile on a nearby chair. He snored softly.

Hilda sighed. “Oh, Claude.”

What to do? He’d been working himself too hard lately. Easy enough to pick him up and carry him into bed, but she didn’t like to remind him how strong she was. Best to save that for the fighting.

Instead, she went into his bedroom to find a blanket. The nights were still chilly, and his fire had burned low. A sparkle on his dresser caught her eye. Carefully laid out on top were all the gifts she’d given him months ago, save the handkerchief and the bracelet. She smiled. So, he did care about them after all. Warmth spread from the center of her chest.

She picked up a blanket she found tossed over a divan and returned to the study. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing muscular forearms with dark hair. A quill dangled precariously form his limp fingers. His hair tumbled over the side of his face, and his dark, thick eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks.

Claude was breathtaking.

Hilda smiled to herself as she draped the blanket over him. Had his shoulders always been so broad? After all the letters they had exchanged over the years, she’d expected to know him, but now he was so much more than the mischievous boy from the academy.

He hadn’t stirred when she’d covered him. Perhaps it would be all right to take a risk. She reached down and brushed the unruly locks of hair away from his face.

Claude opened his eyes.

Hilda snatched her hand back as if she’d been burned, backpedaling. He was out of his seat in a flash. His hand clamped around her wrist, and he pulled her against him. The blanket fell from his shoulders to the ground. She braced herself against him with her palm. He’d done away with his cravat, and his shirt was unbuttoned, so her hand pressed against the skin of his chest. She couldn’t help it—she lightly stroked the silky, dark hair she found there.

A shudder ran through him at her touch, and his green gaze smoldered. Did he feel it, too? Over the past several months, they’d traded so many little touches, almost as many as words. Each time it felt like tiny bursts of lightning through her body.

“You fell asleep,” she murmured. “I thought you might want a blanket.”

Claude released her wrist and slid his arm around her waist, looking into her eyes like he was trying to see into her soul.

It was too much. There were still so many things to be done before the battle, and if she allowed herself moment of weakness, she wouldn’t be able to hold back. She licked her thumb and tried to scrub the ink off his cheek.

Claude’s eyes widened. “What the?”

“You have ink all over your face.” She tried again to clean him, but he dodged. “You must have fallen asleep on a wet document.”

He released her and picked up the blanket as if they hadn’t just been pressed together, vibrating in harmony like two plucked strings. It was the first time he’d touched her without that padded jacket on, and his body felt more muscular than she remembered. She took a deep breath and refrained from fanning herself.

“Ignatz is going to take up lead position with the snipers, and Raphael’s going with the infantry.” She smiled. “And I got Margrave Edmund to commit troops to the march, although he still won’t budge on Marianne.”

Claude laughed, grabbed her waist and lifted, and twirled her in a circle. “My little miracle worker.”

His hands lingered when he set her down, and they stepped apart, suddenly awkward.

Hilda patted her hair to make sure it was still in place. “That means I can sit this one out, right?”

Claude’s expression sobered.

“I was _kidding_ ,” she said. “I’ll be wherever you need me.”

“I want you with the reserve.”

“Leonie’s in reserve.”

“And so are you.”

Hilda poked out her lower lip. If he insisted she participate in the battle, she might as well fight. She’d prefer to be by his side. The regular troops couldn’t protect him nearly as well as she could.

Well, now. That was interesting. She couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to Claude.

Time for a change of subject.

“What are you going to do about Gloucester?”

Claude plopped down in his chair, kicked his heels up on the desk, and laced his fingers behind his head. “What’s there to do? He was dumb enough to fall for my trap and let the Kingdom soldiers march right in and take the bridge. He’s disgraced. If he makes another move, if he so much as twitches toward the Empire, I’ll see he’s stripped of his lands, and he knows it. That’s why he’s so graciously agreed to lend his strength to our invasion of the Empire.”

“Lorenz could have been killed in that battle, you know. He was guarding the bridge.”

“I know. I’m glad he survived. He’ll be a better leader than his father.” Claude’s expression turned somber. Then it hardened. “Still, good thing you didn’t marry him.”

Hilda sighed and rolled her eyes. Yes, Claude was _so_ much better. As if she never had to worry about him going out and getting killed. Wait a minute…

“Are you jealous?” she asked with a smile.

Claude snorted but didn’t say anything. Again, interesting.

“We need to press our advantage, while the Empire’s still reeling from the loss of the bridge,” Claude said. “If we invade them now, we should have the upper hand and can finally stop all this bloodshed.”

Hilda shook her head. “And if the Kingdom forces show up? I’ve heard Dimitri’s unhinged.”

“But Teach isn’t. And we’ve proven we’re willing to work with the Kingdom.”

“I’m not sure even the professor can rein in Dimitri.”

“I admit it’s a risk. But it’s a bigger risk to count on the Kingdom preventing the Adrestians from invading us. Although in that case, it might work to our advantage if Dimitri truly is unhinged.”

“And you’re planning on going into battle yourself?”

Claude moved his feet to the floor and leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his desk. A dark, wavy lock of hair fell over his eye. “My gut tells me this battle is it. There’s something about Gronder. Fates are decided there. It won’t be the end of the war—far from it—but I think we’ll get a glimpse of what’s to come. I need to be there to see it.”

“ _I_ need you to be safe.” Hilda came around his desk and sat on top, on his right. She crossed her ankles and swung her legs. “Don’t take any stupid risks.”

Claude raised an eyebrow and leaned back. “And if something happened to me? What would you do?”

“I’d cry. Might even be real tears.”

“You shed real tears for that camel story. I’d hope you’d at least do the same for me. We’ve been friends a long time.”

Claude fell silent, his gaze searching her face. “You know,” he said softly, “you’re my best friend.”

“You’re mine, too. That’s why you’d better stay safe.”

He rested his hand on her knee, and she covered his knuckles with her palm. “After this is over, do you still want to come meet my family?”

“We’ll have to get my brother’s permission. Otherwise, he might think you kidnapped me and come after us.”

“All right.”

His hand slid from her knee to her thigh, warm even through her stocking. Heat built inside her. His fingertips found her bare skin, and he gently caressed her. Goosebumps covered her head to toe.

“My eyes are still drawn to you,” he murmured. “Only you.”

Words tangled in Hilda’s throat. Where speech failed, touch helped. She brushed the lock of hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. Her fingers trembled as she stroked his cheek. His stubble scraped her skin. He caught her hand and pressed it against his face, eyes closing. Her thigh was cold after the loss of his touch.

“You’re scratchy,” she said, voice thick. “It tickles.”

The look in his eye turned from smoldering to mischievous. “Does it, now? You like my beard?”

She nodded.

A wicked grin stretched Claude’s lips as he pushed her back onto the desk. Papers went flying, and the ink bottle toppled to the floor. He pinned her wrists next to her head and rubbed his whiskers on her shoulders, her neck, her face—anywhere she had exposed skin. She squeaked, thrashing.

“No fair,” she howled.

Hilda managed to get her foot in between them and planted it against his hip. She gave him a push. He staggered backward, and she pounced. She tickled his ribs, his belly, his back. He giggled and spun around, trying to avoid her. If he thought he could get away, he had another thing coming.

Claude ducked one of her attacks and tickled her sides, but she turned the wrong way—into him instead of away—and they tripped on the edge of the carpet. She fell on top of him with a thud. They stared at each other. When it became obvious neither of them was hurt, he grinned again and commenced with the tickle torture. She responded in kind, and they rolled around on the floor. The chair holding Claude’s jacket and cape toppled over. The bottle of ink skittered beneath his desk. His laughter and her squeals filled the room only to come to an abrupt halt when he rolled on top of her, his thigh between hers. Her skirt was rucked up to her hips, her sleeves sagging around her elbows. His cheeks grew even redder as he looked down at her.

Hilda’s heart slammed against her ribs as she gazed up at him, echoed by the pulse between her legs. Her entire body quivered, and it wasn’t just from exertion. He brushed the hair out of her eyes as he smiled softly. His touch lingered on her cheek. She moved her hands to his strong back and gripped tightly. He felt good and right against her. She wanted more. His hardness throbbed against her leg as he moved his hand to her thigh and slid his fingers toward her hip.

Claude lowered his head toward hers as his eyes drifted closed. She put her hands on either side of his face and guided him toward her mouth. Their breath mingled, hot.

The study door flew open with a bang just before their lips met. “Claude, I heard the most outrageous news and had to come at once,” a familiar voice said.

Hilda blinked up at Lorenz. His hair was in disarray, his clothes dirty from travel. He must have thought it dire to appear before them in such a state.

Claude didn’t move, still lying on top of Hilda, although he pulled her skirt down to cover her thigh. “Hello to you, too, Lorenz. Would you mind giving us a minute?”

Lorenz stared down at them, eyes wide. His face turned the color of a beet as his mouth moved soundlessly. He pivoted away and shut the door behind him without another word.

Claude stood up with a grunt and adjusted himself in his trousers before helping Hilda stand. She took a step forward in case he wanted to take her into his arms, but he kept his distance.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he brushed off her clothes.

Hilda pulled his collar straight and buttoned up his shirt, letting her fingers linger in his chest hair. “For what?”

Claude’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His hands drifted toward her before curling into fists at his side.

“Claude?”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Hilda took a step back as if he’d slapped her. “I see. Because I played no part and don’t have an opinion.”

His eyebrows rose. She turned on her heel and stormed through the study door. Lorenz stood in the corridor, cheeks flaming.

“Are you all right?” He raised his hand as if to comfort her. “That scoundrel! Did he force himself on you? Hurt you?”

Not in the way Lorenz meant. “It’s fine.”

“Because if you wish, I will defend your honor—”

“Thank you, but ...”

Actually, a little sympathy would be nice. Hilda wasn’t even sure why she was so upset. A few fake tears would get her what she wanted. But as soon as the first one rolled down her cheek, the floodgates burst. She flung herself at Lorenz and sobbed against his chest. He held her gently, stroking her hair.

“There, there.” His voice was low and tender. “I will do anything you ask. Name it, and it is yours.”

Claude opened the door. His expression went from shock to pained to blank when he saw them standing there. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

“Just look at what you have done,” Lorenz said with a scowl. “How dare you—”

“Strong words from a traitor.”

Claude’s words snapped like a whip, and Lorenz stiffened.

“Don’t listen to him, Lorenz,” Hilda said, cuddling closer to her friend. His arms closed around her protectively. “You did what you had to do for the best interests of your people.”

“You certainly move on quickly,” Claude snapped.

“You’re the one who pushed me away!”

Lorenz looked back and forth between them, brows raised. The guards down the hall turned their direction. Hilda and Claude glared at each other.

Lorenz cleared his throat. “Claude, I came as quickly as I could when I received your letter. Do you truly intend to invade Empire territory?”

“I do,” Claude said, finally looking away from Hilda. “It’s our best chance. The Kingdom should know we’re on their side by now. I don’t know if we can count on their help, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Can I count on Gloucester’s support?”

Lorenz nodded. “Your plan is insane, but I have convinced my father to listen to you.”

“I’m flattered. You always told me I was an inferior leader.”

“That remains to be seen. We have not won yet.”

Hilda clenched her teeth. It was all too much. “I’m going to bed, if you care. I’ll need my rest since we’re marching soon.”

“Do you need an escort?” Lorenz asked.

Claude sneered. “Oh, aren’t you sweet.”

“You do not know the first thing about women,” Lorenz said with a sigh.

“And you do? How’s your romance going? Or do you have your sights set on Hilda now? After all, House Goneril is about as noble as it gets. I don’t blame you for aiming for the best pedigree.”

“I am my own person, with my own thoughts and feelings, thank you very much,” Hilda spat. “Not that you seem to care about any of that. Good night.”

She stormed down the hall. Damn that Claude. Whatever was going on with him, he didn’t understand at all. Or was it all some weird game? He had so many secrets it was hard to know.

As she disappeared down the corridor, the last thing she heard was Lorenz say, “Claude, for a man who prides himself on his cleverness, you certainly are an idiot.”

Hilda couldn’t agree more.


	5. Chapter 5

Claude sighed and rubbed his temples as Hilda hurried away. Damn it. That could have gone better. Having her so close all the time had gone from comforting to confusing.

He glanced at Lorenz, who was about the last person he wanted to deal with right now. Seeing Hilda in his arms made Claude want to tear him into little bits and burn the remains. He choked back the feelings. There wasn’t time to dwell on it. War was more important than his own problems. The war was precisely the reason he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted.

“Since you’re here, you might as well come in,” Claude said, retreating to his study.

Lorenz nodded and stepped into the room. He took a seat at the desk.

“So,” Claude said as he sat across from Lorenz. “You got your father to see reason. Too bad you couldn’t have done that years ago.”

Lorenz’s brow furrowed. “You have ink on your face. Is that writing?”

Claude put his hand on his cheek, where Hilda had tried to scrub the ink away. He’d been burning the candle at both ends trying to prepare for their attack on Gronder. She’d checked on him, put a blanket over him, took care of him…and he’d repaid her by groping her on the floor. Women from Fódlan had certain expectations of decorum. He hadn’t respected them. Hilda’s reaction was proof he needed to be more careful in the future.

Lorenz narrowed his eyes. “You’re working too hard. Have care you do not wear yourself thin. You must do your utmost to be an effective leader, and rest is part of your responsibilities.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Claude sighed and let his gaze rest on the desk’s surface. The papers had fled, scattered on the floor from his wrestling match with Hilda. She had felt so damn good. He’d craved the contact for longer than he’d wanted to admit. But it hadn’t been appropriate.

Lorenz studied him, expression filled with concern. “If you love her, you should go to her.”

Love her?

Claude’s chest constricted as if someone twice his size was sitting on him. Oh gods, he was in love with Hilda. He’d been so focused on the war he’d never really taken the time to examine his feelings for her. She was important to him, he was happy when she was near, and that was all that had mattered.

“I don’t have time,” Claude said, and saying the words was like tearing out his own heart.

“No time to be with your beloved?”

“All I have time for is finding ways to keep my people alive.”

Lorenz sighed, suddenly somber. “I cannot blame you for your priorities, but I find it sad all the same.”

“Maybe it’s better this way.” Perhaps distance would make it easier if something happened to one of them.

But someday, the war would be over. If he was going to pursue his dream, he’d need someone by his side who was a skilled negotiator and diplomat, someone who was strong in both body and spirit. Someone like Hilda.

A plan began to form. Yes, after the war, he’d begin a different sort of game, one which they’d both win. But first he had to make sure everyone survived.

Speaking of which…

“Help me pick these up,” Claude said as he bent to retrieve his papers. “This is what I’m thinking. I’ll go to Gronder, and you stay here with Judith to mend fences and keep things from falling apart while I’m gone.”

Lorenz stared at him, mouth hanging open. “Are you certain?”

“Yep. Listen well, because here’s the plan…”


	6. Chapter 6

Hilda crouched in the trees at the base of the hill with her battalion. She was too far away to locate Claude, but the Empire’s fire attack was large enough for the chaos to be visible even from her location. Funny, she’d been avoiding him for days, and now she couldn’t stand not being able to see him.

Damn it, had he put her so far out of the way on purpose? Because she’d asked to be benched? If so, she regretted ever making the request. Waiting when friends were fighting and dying was far worse than being out there herself.

She chewed on the inside of her lip, searching for a sign. The Kingdom army was on the move, making a beeline toward Edelgard. The Alliance seemed to be staying out of the way—but no. There went the infantry, pushing forward, not toward the Kingdom but the Empire. It appeared Claude was trying to flank Edelgard’s forces and push them toward the Kingdom ranks. If it worked, it would take out a large chunk of the Imperial army.

And then all hell broke loose. More flames, wind spells, lightning—the battlefield became a storm of arrows and magic. It was impossible to tell friend from foe. Hilda tore her gaze from the ground and looked at the sky. A wyvern formation rose from where she suspected Claude was. A Pegasus battalion—was that Ingrid leading them?—detached from the Kingdom and engaged.

Hilda turned to her troops. “The plan’s dead! To Duke Riegan!”

She didn’t bother waiting for them to respond. Branches whipped her arms as she broke out of the trees, running despite her heavy armor. Freikugel cut down everything in her path. The world narrowed to the battle in the sky, where she caught a flash of gold. Claude.

The blood of her enemies sprayed her armor and face as she raced toward the battle. If something happened to him, if he died before they could mend things between them, she’d never forgive him. She clenched her teeth, smashed skulls, and cleaved heads from shoulders as she rushed toward her best friend. Arrows filled the sky, but they came from the direction of the Alliance, not the Empire or Kingdom, and were aimed squarely at the pegasus corps. Thank the goddess for Ignatz and his snipers.

But they weren’t enough. A mounted battalion barreled toward where Ignatz was. A man in black armor laid about with a Relic. His hair glinted red in the smoke-stained sunlight. Sylvain Gautier. If he killed Ignatz, she was going to pull his still-beating heart from his chest.

Hilda roared and tore through the enemy—both Kingdom and Empire—like a wire through a block of clay. She spared a glance around her. The pegasus corps clashed with the wyverns, the quarters too close for archery. Claude was an excellent swordsman, but could he beat Ingrid’s lance? Hilda’s legs burned, but she forced herself to go faster.

She looked up again just as a wyvern with gold tassels on its bridle fell out of the sky. “Claude!”

The wyvern ricocheted off a pegasus on its way to the earth, slowing its descent. The wyvern rider bailed at the last moment. A pegasus warrior bearing a Relic followed it to the ground.

Hilda arrived just in time to find Claude on his back, scooting away with his left leg dragging and Failnaught raised. Ingrid advanced on him, still astride her mount, Relic pointed at his chest. Hilda bellowed as she launched one of her throwing axes. The weapon sliced into the pegasus’s hindquarters, and it reared with a shriek. Ingrid battled for control of her beast.

The galloping of hooves came at Hilda from her left. It was the dark knight from before, Sylvain. His relic glowed red, but its light was nothing compared to Freikugel’s.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” he shouted. “Ingrid, are you all right?”

Hilda braced herself. The bastard was going to try to run her down. Let him try. He’d learn why the Gonerils were the only ones able to hold a foe like the Almyrans at bay.

She waited until he was nearly on top of her. Sylvain raised his Relic. She sprinted forward and threw herself into a slide, hefting Freikugel as she went. Sylvain shouted as his horse was cut from under him. He went sprawling into the dirt, and Hilda picked herself up and sprinted toward Claude. Ingrid had dismounted, her Relic raised. Hilda screamed and tackled her. Bones crunched as Hilda’s heavy, armored body smashed Ingrid to the ground. Somewhere behind Hilda, Sylvain cried out.

Hilda rolled to her feet, Freikugel held high, and stood between the enemy and Claude. Let the bastards come. She’d cut them to pieces if they tried to touch him.

“H-Hilda?” Claude said. Ash and dirt streaked his face, his padded coat stained with blood. His cape was torn.

Ingrid staggered to her feet, holding her ribs with her free hand. Hilda scowled. Sylvain approached from her other side, Relic at the ready. All other soldiers had backed away at the sight of the four Relics, leaving a circle of clear space. There was plenty of room to maneuver.

“What are you doing?” Hilda shouted. “Why are you fighting us?”

Ingrid snarled. “That’s rich, coming from the ones who mutilated our messenger before dumping the body.”

“The what?” Hilda glared at Ingrid. “We never received any messengers from the Kingdom, not since the request for aid drawing Gloucester away from the bridge.”

“And we’re just supposed to believe you?” Sylvain said, rage filling his face.

“Hilda—” Claude said.

“Shut up,” Hilda snapped at him over her shoulder. “If you say one more word, it’s lights out for you.”

She turned to the two Kingdom nobles. “You honestly thought we’d turn on you after letting you try to kill Lorenz at Myrddin? That we’d make that kind of decision lightly? Are you out of your minds?”

“But—” Sylvain began.

“I was at the command center the whole time. Not a single messenger came from your king. We came here to help you, you morons, and look what you’ve done!”

Ingrid and Sylvain shared a look, faces pale.

“Even after all this, I still don’t want to have to kill you,” Hilda said, advancing with Freikugel. “But I will if you don’t get out of here now. And if you’ve killed any of my classmates, you’d better watch your backs, because I will not rest until I’ve sent you to your graves.”

Sylvain held up his hands and backed away. “And here I thought Dimitri had cornered the market on crazy.”

“Sylvain!” Ingrid shot him a look.

Sylvain’s expression sobered. “Is it true? About the messenger?”

“I swear on the Gonerils’ reputation,” Hilda said. “May my brother strike me down if I lie. You and I both want the same thing—to defeat the Empire and stop this hideous war. Edelgard knows that, so what better way to ensure victory than to make us suspicious of each other and fight?”

Sylvain looked at Ingrid and nodded.

“Even if we believe you,” Ingrid said, “It’s too late. We can’t take it back.”

Hilda lowered Freikugel a fraction. “But we can stop it now. I’ll have the Alliance forces fall back. You focus on defeating the Empire. And when this war is over, I expect a formal apology from your king for letting himself get played so badly by the Adrestians.”

“We’ll see what we can do.” Sylvain limped over to Ingrid.

Hilda nodded. “Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

She kept Freikugel at the ready, all her senses focused on the battle around her, as Sylvain and Ingrid retreated. The fighting raged on, but few dared come near as long as she had her Relic at the ready. When she was sure no one was poised to attack, she turned to Claude.

He stared up at her, eyes wide. “You are magnificent.”

“You bet your perfect little butt I am.” Hilda bent and pulled him to his feet. That leg of his was definitely broken. She slung his arm over her shoulder and dragged him away from the fighting. Anyone who tried to stop their retreat ended up cut in half.

“You’re upset,” Claude said between clenched teeth. It was obvious he was in pain, but she was in no mood to coddle him.

Hilda struck out at an Empire brawler, felling him in one stroke. “I’m a proper lady, and ladies never curse, but even so—fuck you, Claude.”

“That can be arranged,” he said with a weak smile.

“Oh. My. Goddess. You did _not_ just try to joke with me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be sorry for a lot more than that.”

“I know, and I am.”

Goddess damn it all, where was Marianne when they needed her? Lysithea would do in a pinch, but judging by the explosions, the sorceress was half the battlefield away. Claude was just going to have to suffer. Well, he deserved it.

“You should have never attacked.” Angry tears formed in the corners of Hilda’s eyes. “You should have hung back in the trees until the Kingdom was in trouble. Then you could have swooped in and saved them, and they would have known we were allies.”

Claude sighed. “I really thought we could do it.”

His weight grew heavier and heavier until she was half-dragging, half-carrying him. He tried to limp along on his good leg, but he began to shake. Hilda clenched her teeth and glanced at him. His skin was dangerously pale, and his eyes were starting to roll back in his head.

Enough was enough. “Leicester Alliance! Fall back in the name of the Duke,” she bellowed. “Pass it along! Fall back! Let the Kingdom take the lead!”

Hilda bullied every unit she saw into either retreating or passing along the message and covering the others’ retreat. Fortunately, Leonie showed up shortly after, and her cavalry made short work of spreading the message. The retreat proceeded in an orderly fashion.

“What now?” Leonie asked. She, Lysithea, Raphael, and Ignatz, along with a few other commanders, stood at the ready.

Hilda swallowed. Damn it, now they expected things from her. She could either argue with them that she wasn’t in charge, or she could get this done and get Claude safe. He’d passed out, a dead weight on her shoulder, although he somehow managed to keep his grip on Failnaught.

She took a deep breath. “Lysithea, I need you to do what you can for Claude. Leonie, keep an eye on any stragglers. Raphael, you lead the retreat, and Ignatz, your snipers should remain toward the rear to cover us. The rest of you, get your men in order and get out of here as calmly and quickly as possible. The Kingdom and Empire can grind each other to dust for all I care.”

Everyone nodded and hurried off. Hilda turned to Lysithea. “Can you heal him while we march?”

“I can try.”

Hilda tucked Freikugel into the straps on her belt and hooked Failnaught around it. Claude was as limp as a noodle as she slung him over her shoulders. Her armor was likely bruising him, but that was the least of her worries.

“I think it’s bad,” Lysithea said.

“I know.” Hilda gritted her teeth and marched forward. Claude wasn’t tall, but he was taller than she was, and heavier. It was awkward, slow going. If only he were conscious—she could have given him an elixir or something.

“Hey,” Hilda said to Lysithea. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

Lysithea blushed. “Why wouldn’t I be? You know, you’re really something when you make an effort.”

“Don’t tell anyone. They’ll expect me to do it next time, too,” Hilda said with a half-smile.

“I think it’s a bit late for that.”

Hilda groaned.

The retreat went off without a hitch. When they made camp that evening, Claude safely ensconced in his tent, Hilda finally had an opportunity to tally their troops. Their losses were huge. She could only imagine the decrease in numbers the Empire and Kingdom forces had suffered.

Enough was enough. This war needed to end.

But first, Claude had to survive. When the evening watch took over, Hilda entered Claude’s tent, stripped off her armor, and slept on the ground by his cot as healers came and went. In the morning, they kept him asleep and put him in a litter as they continued their march. And so it went all the way back to Derdriu. The healers would let him wake up enough to eat and drink and relieve himself, and then they’d put him back under.

Hilda almost wept with relief when they finally reached Claude’s chambers. She retreated to her own quarters, bathed and dressed in fresh clothes, and hurried back to his side. While she was gone, the healers had cleaned him and re-bound his broken bones. Tomorrow, they said, he’d wake up.

She ushered them out then retreated to his side. No way was she sleeping on the ground in here. The gossips could go jump out a window, she decided. Enough was enough. She slipped under the covers beside him, laid her head on the pillow next to his, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Claude woke with a groan. Everything hurt, as if he’d been tied down and beaten head to toe with a sack of rocks. His head spun as he opened his eyes. He’d experimented often enough with poisons to know what a chemical hangover felt like. His condition must have been bad for them to keep him sedated.

But that wasn’t the most surprising thing. Although the room was dim, what with the heavy curtains drawn, he knew he wasn’t alone. Someone breathed softly next to him. Their scent was familiar.

A jolt went through him. Hilda, here in his bed.

He turned to look at her, barely able to make out her features in the darkness. How many times had he fantasized about this very thing? What would it be like to awake to her every morning? His heart swelled in his chest, and he brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek.

Her eyes snapped open and caught what little light there was. She sat bolt upright, nightdress slipping from her shoulder. “Claude?”

“Yes?”

She scooted back down next to him again and pulled him to her so his head rested on her chest. His cheek pressed against her breasts. So soft. He closed his eyes and forced himself not to nuzzle.

“I was so worried about you,” she murmured. “You broke your leg and hip. The fracture in your thigh was compound, and you lost a lot of blood. They’ve been healing you, but it’s been slow going because they want to make sure it mends right.”

“Are you all right? Did you sustain any injuries?”

“I’m fine. But the battle was a disaster. We lost a lot of troops.”

“I assume we retreated?”

Hilda nodded.

“Who called it?”

She hesitated. “I did.”

“You led the retreat?”

She looked away.

By the gods, she had. Hilda had taken command of his army and gotten them all out of there. Not only that, she had singlehandedly cut her way across the most chaotic battlefield he had ever seen. Had it truly been all for him?

“You were…stunning,” he said. “Like a warrior goddess. None could touch you.”

Hilda released him, easing him back onto the bed. “Don’t be silly.”

“I was there, remember? I saw you. The way you looked when you came to save me…”

“Oh, hush.”

Claude’s heart pounded so hard against his ribs he worried they’d crack. She was smart. She was strong. She would make a fantastic queen.

The realization struck him like crockery to the head. Queen Hilda of Almyra. It was perfect. Assuming he became king, of course. Not only would she be wonderful in the role, her nationality would help improve relations and break down prejudice.

And, best of all, he was madly in love with her.

There was just one problem, and it was a big one—Hilda shunned responsibility, and becoming queen was about as responsible as one could get. Sure, she’d stepped up during the battle at Gronder, but she’d had no choice. Whether or not she became queen was her choice and her choice alone.

He’d just have to come up with an excellent scheme to convince her it was what she wanted.

That could come later, and he already had some ideas. The war wasn’t over yet, not to mention their relationship could use some mending. Lorenz was right, Hilda was right—he really could be an idiot sometimes.

“Would you please open the curtains?” he asked.

Hilda slid from bed without a word, her braid dangling down her back. Claude placed his hand on the spot where she’d slept and soaked up her warmth. Her feet made no sound as she made her way across the plush rug to the window and pulled apart the curtains. Midday light flooded the room. The fabric of nightdress she wore was thin enough that the way the light hit her illuminated the outline of her figure beneath the garment. Gods, she was beautiful.

“It’s later than I thought,” she said as she returned to bed.

It was, but it didn’t matter. He took her hand and held it between his. She must work hard to keep her weapon calluses to a minimum, but they were still there. The memory of her fingers in his chest hair sent a hot jolt through him. That night, he’d been so focused on what it looked like he’d been trying to do to her that he’d completely overlooked her eager participation. Was she attracted to him, too? It was possible he’d been utterly blind. His heart sank at the thought of how he must have hurt her even as his chest expanded with hope.

“I don’t know a thing, do I?” he whispered and pressed her hand to his lips.

“I’m glad you’ve finally realized that.”

Hilda rolled onto her side and gazed at him across the pillows. He turned his head so he could see her better, and she reached out and brushed a lock of hair from his face. Her fingers lingered on his cheek.

Claude took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for what happened that night.”

“So you’ve mentioned.” Her tone grew chilly.

“No, not like that. I don’t regret the way you felt in my hands. I shouldn’t have reacted like I did when Lorenz found us. It’s just…it looked bad. What sort of man am I to have time to do something like that when the people I’m responsible for are in trouble? I let my own guilt govern the way I treated you, and that was wrong.”

Her gaze softened as her hand rested on his chest. “You’re only human.”

“That might be true, but I can’t afford to be. Edelgard and Dimitri are each exceptional in their own ways. If I take my attention away from them for a minute, it could mean disaster for the Alliance.”

Hilda groaned. “So much pressure. I’m glad you’re leader and not me.”

Claude tried to ignore the way his heart sank. No, there was still time to win her over. “Says the woman who rallied the army when I fell and got us back here in one piece.”

“That was a one-time deal.”

“Who’s going to act as my proxy, then, when I’m stuck here in bed healing?”

Although once he said the words, being stuck in bed with Hilda sounded like heaven. If only his damn injuries were better. Curse Ingrid—although it was his own softness that had prevented him from shooting her out of the sky the moment he saw her. He should be glad she hadn’t killed him outright.

Hilda made a noise in the back of her throat. “Are you really asking me?”

“I’ll owe you a massive favor. Or a bunch of small ones. Your pick.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I thought you might.”

“All right, I’ll consider it.”

If he wasn’t in so much pain, he’d roll over and kiss her. Instead, he let his touch dance up her arm and beneath her sleeve. Her skin was silky, and goosebumps appeared as he caressed her. Hilda shuddered, and just like that, he was hard. Good to know that piece of him hadn’t been injured.

“Do you forgive me?” he whispered. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Her eyes glistened. “All right.”

She shifted closer and rolled so her chest rested on top of his. The thin layers of their clothes couldn’t conceal the soft warmth of her breasts. He slid his hand behind her head and drew her face down to his.

A knock came at the door, but before he could answer, Judith entered. “Boy, we—oh.”

Hilda rolled off him and covered her face with her hands.

Claude sighed. “Here I am, leader of the Alliance, and yet everyone keeps barging in on me.”

“We need to lock the doors,” Hilda moaned behind her hands.

“It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t need locks. I’m the duke. I have guards who are supposed to people keep people out. That’s it—I’m going to have to fire them all.”

“But—”

“All right, fine. I’ll rotate them to another post.”

Judith stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed over her chest. “Are you two done?”

Claude shot her a glance. “Not yet. You might want to avert your eyes. Come here, Hilda.”

Hilda allowed him to guide her face close to his again. Her cheeks burned so intensely their heat warmed his skin. Instead of kissing her, he pulled her ear to his mouth.

“There’s a passage from your room to mine,” he whispered, lips barely moving. “I’ll send more information later.”

The heat coming from her cheeks intensified. She nodded and began to pull away.

It was too much. His discipline failed. He lips grazed the corner of her mouth as she pulled away. The desire in her eyes just made him harder. Seeing her expression reinforced just how stupid he’d been for not exploring their attraction sooner.

“I’m turning back around,” Judith announced as Hilda slid from bed.

Judith frowned at Hilda. “You know, this could cause quite a scandal. Wouldn’t want it getting back to Holst, would you?”

The color fled Hilda’s face. Even so, she left the room with the dignity and grace of a princess. Claude’s heart went with her.

He and Judith listened until Hilda’s steps retreated and the doors closed behind her. Claude fixed Judith with a look. “I’m going to marry her.”

“Have you asked yet?” Judith asked, eyebrow raised.

“No, but I’ll get her to agree. Mark my words—when this war is over, she’ll become my wife.”

Judith looked over her shoulder, as if by doing so she could capture the image of Hilda. “She certainly has advantageous family connections, but does she know about yours?”

“Not yet.” Which was a problem, one he hadn’t figured out how to work around. It was entirely possible she’d refuse to marry him once she found out who his parents were.

Judith sighed. “Well, that’s not why I’m here. The lords are in an uproar over what happened at Gronder. Someone needs to go mollify them and get them working together again. I’ve done my best, and that Gloucester boy isn’t unskilled, but it’s not enough.”

“I suspected as much. That’s why Hilda’s going to act as my proxy.”

Judith’s eyes widened.

“One—she’s the hero of Gronder. She fought her way across the entire battlefield singlehandedly, faced down two warriors with Relics, saved my life, and organized the retreat. Two, people always want to get on Lord Holst’s good side, and one of the quickest ways to do that is to be nice to his sister. Three, Hilda very skilled at getting people to do what she wants and—”

Judith chuckled. “Really got it bad, don’t you?”

“What?” Claude asked with a frown.

“Never mind. Fine, I’ll follow up with Lady Goneril.”

“Excellent. Thank you. Since I can’t sit up, would you mind taking dictation for a letter?”

“Oh?”

“I need to write to Dimitri. And Nader. You can even slip in a little note of your own and send it along with my letter to Nader, if you’d like.”

To her credit, Judith didn’t even blush, although she couldn’t hide the sparkle in her eyes. “Oh, all right.”

“I appreciate it.”

Judith went into his study to get writing supplies. Claude sank into his pillows and frowned up at the ceiling. It was time to lay the groundwork for the two most important schemes of his life.


	8. Chapter 8

Hilda lay awake, staring at the ceiling above her bed and letting the bedside candle burn. Tomorrow was the 30th of Garland Moon. For the past two months, she’d been sneaking into Claude’s room and sleeping by his side. The first month, he was too injured and exhausted to do much more than hold her hand. This last month, they’d both been too busy as the Empire turned north to fill the void left by the Kingdom army as it hurried to Fhirdiad. Whenever she crawled into his bed—or he into hers—she was exhausted and always fell asleep immediately. At least they hadn’t been discovered since Judith walked in on them. They’d learned their lesson and had been careful to lock the door.

But tonight, they would not be sharing a bed. Claude had banished her from the war room when she started nodding off. He would not sleep tonight, not with the Adrestians at the doorstep, led by Lord Arundel himself.

Now that she was in bed, sleep eluded her. Thoughts raced through her mind too quickly to catch. Claude had sent a letter to Dimitri the moment they’d heard he was marching back to Fhirdiad. Only the war council knew what Claude was asking the Kingdom, and most of them opposed it after what Dimitri had done at Gronder, herself included. Even so, if Dimitri was going to atone for what had happened there, saving Derdriu would be a good way to do it. She hoped Claude was right about the Faerghus king.

If he wasn’t, they were dead.

So be it. She’d already decided that she wasn’t going to go quietly, and she absolutely wasn’t going to let anyone lay a finger on Claude ever again. Holst had written her, commending her for her actions at Gronder, and he’d given her the task of keeping Duke Riegan alive. Now she had two reasons to protect Claude. One was easier to communicate than the other.

The secret panel in her bedchamber slid open with a whisper, and Hilda sat bolt upright. Claude stepped into her room, disheveled. He wore only his shirtsleeves, and dark circles nestled beneath his eyes. She leaped out of bed and rushed over to him.

“Are the preparations finished?” She tried to guide him to a chair, but he stood firm.

“The ships are being readied as we speak. The first citizens will be loaded shortly.” He inhaled deeply, took her hands, and looked into her eyes. “I want you to go with them.”

Hila stared at him.

“You can’t stay here.” His grip on her tightened. “If Derdriu falls—”

“Then you’ll die.”

She knew what he was thinking. He didn’t want her to be in danger, but if the Empire overran Derdriu, he’d surrender himself in a heartbeat to spare the city. There was no way she was going to let that happen.

“I’m not leaving,” she said, “I’m not going to—”

Hilda’s words vanished as Claude released her hands and slid his fingers through her hair. His cheeks darkened.

“I’ve never seen you with your hair down,” he murmured.

Claude slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Her pulse spiked, and heat flooded her body as she looked up at him.

“I hope it’s all right to touch you like this,” he continued, “If I die tomorrow—"

Hilda pressed her finger against his mouth. “You won’t die, I won’t let you.”

“If you’re in danger, I want you to run.”

“Claude—”

“Promise me. If you’re in danger, run. Escape. Live however you can. Please, Hilda. I beg you.”

She smiled, but it felt weak even to her. “I always fantasized about you begging, but not like this.”

“Let’s focus on surviving, and then we’ll see what we can do about that.”

Claude’s voice had dropped in pitch, rumbling in his chest, and her knees turned to water. Her body vibrated with need. Slowly, he bent his head, his eyes sliding closed. She tilted her head up to him. Their breath mingled as his lips brushed hers.

He began to withdraw. Hilda placed her hands on either side of his face and tugged him down again. His lips were soft and warm. He tasted faintly of wine. A sound left her before she could stop it, and she melted against him as the kiss’s heat flowed through her. This was what she’d wanted for so long. She pulled back, sucking on his lower lip.

A thrill ran through her as he moaned. His arm tightened around her, and he pressed his mouth to hers once more. The kiss grew more frenzied, his lips teasing hers apart. His hands slid down her back and gripped her hips.

“I don’t want to stop,” Claude said when he came up for air.

Hilda wrapped her arms around his neck. “Me, neither.”

“I want to throw you on your bed and take your clothes off with my teeth and run my tongue all over your body.”

Hilda shuddered and ground against him. The fire inside her flared higher.

Claude moved as if to pull away. “We need to—”

“I thought neither of us wanted to stop.” Hilda stood on tiptoe and kissed his throat, next to his Adam’s apple.

A tremor went through him as he threw back his head, eyes closed. Tomorrow they would fight, maybe die. She had promised Holst she’d remain a virgin until she was married, but when she made that promise, Fódlan had been at peace. What if something happened to them tomorrow and she never got the chance? She reached for his belt.

Claude clamped his hands down on her arms, pinning them to her sides. His eyes were glassy when he looked at her, and his breathing was ragged. “This isn’t the way I want this. Besides, there’s no time—I have to get back to the council meeting.”

“What if this is our only chance?”

He smiled, but the expression was melancholy. “You have so little faith in my plan. There’ll be other chances. I promise. We’ll take all the time we need and want.”

Hilda nodded.

“I really need to go, but just one more thing. Meet me by the southeastern gate the morning after the battle ends. Agreed?”

“But why—”

“Will you meet me there? Please?”

She frowned. “All right.”

Claude curled around her in a crushing embrace. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Remember, you promised to run if your life is in danger.”

They kissed one more time before he disappeared back through the secret passage. Hilda stood in the center of her bedchamber, every nerve awake and aflame. Damn him. She’d have to make sure she lived if only to pay him back for leaving her in such a state. At least she’d be able to enjoy plotting her revenge.

They’d survive the battle. They had to. Holst had told her to protect Claude, and she would. Not only because he’d told her to. Claude’s injuries after Gronder were terrible. She’d never let that happen again, not while she drew breath.

“Sorry, Claude,” she said softly to her room. “I won’t be running.”


	9. Chapter 9

Claude’s gut twisted and clenched as he surveyed Derdriu from atop his wyvern. The citizens were as safe as they could be, evacuated to ships that were even now sailing away. Small bands of soldiers led the Adrestian forces through the streets and drew them ever deeper into the city. No sign of the Kingdom army.

Hilda stood at the end of the harbor bridge, on the city side. The wind carried her complaints about the post to his ears, and he smiled. She wore her heavy armor, Freikugel resting on one of her shoulders. Her pink hair waved in the breeze like a banner.

Damn, she was beautiful.

Judith was somewhere in the city, monitoring the guerilla forces’ retreat. It was her—and Claude’s plan—against Lord Arundel, possibly the scariest person in the Empire after Edelgard. And Hubert, actually. It was too bad Hubert was so devoted to Edelgard—Claude admired the man’s ability to scheme and direct action from the shadows.

Still no trace of Dimitri. Too many Adrestian soldiers remained outside the city. If they entered Derdriu, the guerilla forces would be overwhelmed.

“Come on,” Claude muttered under his breath. “Where are you?”

If his plan failed…

It wouldn’t fail. It couldn’t. After so many years, the Alliance citizens felt like his people. He’d protect them if it cost him his life. But he wasn’t prepared to spend Hilda’s.

Claude allowed his wyvern to gain altitude, heart ramming against his sternum as sweat ran down his spine. His hands trembled where he gripped the reins. This was it. If the Kingdom didn’t arrive in the next hour, his only option was to get himself killed, despite what he’d told Hilda. Once he was out of the way, he was certain Edelgard would spare his citizens. His death would ensure the Alliance’s surrender, which would greatly diminish the number of casualties.

That still left Hilda. Maybe he was a coward and should have just told her how he felt. The memory of her in his arms sent a jolt of agony through him. If he never got to hold her again…well, it was probably the least he deserved for gambling with her life.

His scanned for enemy archers. Seemed safe enough for the moment. The Alliance forces were spread thin, still too weak after Gronder.

“Come on, hold out,” he said between gritted teeth, squinting into the sun.

A shimmer on the horizon caught his attention. Heat rising from the ground? A strange reflection of the sea at his back? No. It was sunlight glinting off of shields and drawn weapons. There—a banner of blue. The army was too far away to make out individuals, but there was certain to be a one-eyed man and green-haired professor at its head.

Tears sprang to Claude’s eyes. He quickly blinked them away as he directed his wyvern to lose altitude. The cards had been played. Claude’s hand was a good one. Was it enough?

“They’re here,” Claude shouted to Hilda, but the words died on his tongue. While he was distracted with his survey, the Adrestians had arrived. The lone figure at the end of the bridge was all that stood between the army and the harbor. Hilda readied her shield and hefted Freikugel.

The Kingdom army rushed the city at the same time the Adrestians made for Hilda. Claude swore, hoping Dimitri could discern the plan, and drew Failnaught. He used the bow’s superior range and accuracy to pierce the throat of a swordsman trying to get past Hilda’s guard.

Not that Hilda needed much help. Freikugel knocked enemies to the ground or into the water. The bridge was big enough for wagons, which meant it was too wide for one person to truly defend. Adrestians kept trying to get behind her. Claude picked them off, but there were so many, and he didn’t have an infinite supply of arrows. Every shot counted.

Fortunately, Claude was a very good shot.

And yet he was nothing compared to Hilda. The way she wielded her weapon, the strength and grace of her movements, her sheer power…if he hadn’t been about to vomit at the thought of her getting injured, he would have been mesmerized. She’d always been an excellent warrior despite her laziness, but now she was almost divine.

Claude spared a glance for Derdriu’s gates. Dimitri’s forces were moving into the city. Better late than never. Slowly, the pincer attack closed around the Adrestians. Claude dared gain altitude again to survey the action.

Hilda chucked her shield into the crowd of attacking soldiers. It landed with a heavy thud on armored bodies. The thing weighed half as much as she did; Claude had no idea how she hefted it. Her arms were strong, but she wasn’t particularly beefy. Perhaps it was an unknown side effect of her Crest. His heart crawled into his throat as a dozen soldiers rushed her. Freikugel augmented her speed, and she took them all out in short order. Claude exhaled, sweat rolling down his temple.

Then the next wave hit.

Lord Arundel sat his horse behind the troops. He was too far away to discern his expression, but it was almost certainly smug. Mages stepped forward and began to cast.

The healer who had been supporting Hilda was the first casualty of the magical assault. Hilda took out two of the enemy mages with her throwing axes, but that exhausted her supply, and the press of infantry wouldn’t allow her to retrieve them. A streak of red meandered down the side of her armor. Claude had three arrows. There were three enemy mages left. He loaded Failnaught and let the arrows fly.

Two of the arrows claimed their mark. The third found its home in the face of a foot soldier unlucky enough to step into its path. The final mage cast the spell. Oily purple magic engulfed Hilda.

“Hilda!” Claude urged his wyvern forward. It was stupid to put himself at risk, but now that Dimitri was here, it didn’t matter. The Alliance lords could tell the king what he needed to know. The transition would go forward regardless of whether or not Claude survived.

His wyvern’s wings beat back the enemy as it hooked its teeth in Hila’s armor. She left a long, bloody streak on the ground as it pulled her back to the harbor, metal screeching on stone. Her head lolled, but she kept hold of her Relic.

“Why didn’t you run?” he shouted over the din of battle.

Hilda shot him a lazy grin. Blood matted her bangs and sheeted down one side of her face. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Claude glanced up. Enemy soldiers swarmed the bridge. He raised Failnaught, and they hesitated. They didn’t know he was out of arrows.

A battle cry sounded behind the Adrestians. They turned, and Claude got a glimpse of Felix running Arundel through. Faerghus troops overwhelmed those from the Empire. Knights of Seiros were there, too—Alois, Shamir, and Catherine. And was that Cyril? Tears rolled down Claude’s face. Derdriu was saved. More importantly, help had arrived for Hilda.

Claude slid from his wyvern’s back and unbuckled Hilda’s armor. Her sweat soaked the padded layer underneath. Blood began to pool against her backplate.

“Sorry, Claude.” Her voice grew weak. “It’s been fun.”

“You promised you’d run,” he murmured, wiping blood out of her eye.

Her smile wavered. “I promised I’d protect you.”

“You are the most beautiful, magnificent person ever.”

“Can’t sweet talk me.” She coughed, expression crumpling with pain.

Claude clutched her hand and looked around desperately. He’d planned on dying as a last resort, so he’d purposely left any healing potions behind to avoid temptation. That decision might cost him Hilda.

“You have to hang on,” he said, pressing her hand to his cheek. “Holst wouldn’t want you to give up. I don’t want you to give up.”

Hilda’s eyelids fluttered. Beneath the blood, her cheeks had grown pale. Her grip on his hand weakened.

Claude raised his head. The battle was over. Faerghus soldiers were cleaning up the Adrestians, taking prisoners and collecting bodies. Dimitri separated Arundel’s head from the rest of the corpse and tossed it into the harbor as he stood at the end of the bridge.

“Mercedes,” Dimitri shouted over his shoulder.

Dedue stood next to Dimitri, his armor splattered with blood. Mercedes was a step behind him. She possessed the determined yet hollow look in her eyes that gentle people developed on the battlefield. When she saw Hilda, she rushed to help.

Claude stood. Hilda was going to be all right. Even so, leaving her side was like tearing off his own arm. He brushed off his knees and tried to look dignified despite his bloodstained clothes as he approached Dimitri and Teach. They were speaking of Arundel’s death.

“For now, let’s celebrate our victory,” Teach said.

“Teach is absolutely right.” Claude plastered a smile on his face as he approached the two men. It was time to cut his final ties and fly free to meet his future.


	10. Chapter 10

Hilda barely remembered being healed and taken to the infirmary. Claude came to visit her several times, but he could never stay long. Mages healed her two more times that night, and by morning she was almost feeling adequate, so long as she moved carefully. Well enough to bathe, and well enough to meet Claude at the gate. Kingdom soldiers were everywhere, but somehow, she didn’t see a single person she recognized. Just as well. Her wounds still hurt, and it took her longer than she would have liked to get where she was going.

Claude stood at the side of the walkway a few yards outside the gate, staring at the world without. Four horses were hitched nearby, two saddled and the others laden with bundles. Claude had a pack slung over his shoulder and another under his arm. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was nervous, the way his brow furrowed. He wore plain brown trousers tucked into serviceable black boots and a white shirt with loose sleeves. Strange to see him in plain clothes after so many years of fancy uniforms and half-capes. The lack of ornamentation better highlighted his beauty.

His expression brightened when he caught sight of her only to fall into a frown. True, she was moving slowly, but it wasn’t as if she was going to keel over and die. Her delicate flower ruse was well and truly broken at this point.

“Well?” she said as drew near. “I’m here. What’s with all this? Are you going on a trip?”

Claude took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you.”

Hilda’s stomach sank. His expression, combined with his tone, didn’t bode well.

“I…I abdicated. Dimitri’s the leader of the Alliance now.”

Hilda stared. Her mind turned blank, and her mouth hung open.

“The council agreed after you left the night before the battle,” he continued.

“But how? How could they agree to that after Gronder?”

“Because Dimitri’s the man I always thought he was.” Claude sighed. “I wrote him and said the best way for him to make up for Gronder was to save the people he’d wronged. So he did, and in the process, he proved that Fódlan is more important to him than revenge. That’s the kind of leader Fódlan needs.”

Hilda threw up her hands and gripped her hair. She blinked a few times. This wasn’t a dream. It was just insanity, pure and simple.

“Why? Why would you give up your position? What could possibly be better?”

Claude crossed his arms over his chest, considering. “It’s not really something that’s easy to put into words. More importantly, how are you doing?”

“I’ve been better. That’s the last time I’m doing anything for you, just so you know.”

Claude offered his arm, which she grudgingly accepted. “I can’t begin to tell you how magnificent you were.”

“I hope I lived up to your expectations.”

“You’ve always done your best to keep my expectations low, so I can safely say you exceeded them.”

Hilda glanced at the mounts. It was easy to see what they meant, especially since he’d abdicated. What surprised her was the way her gut clenched and her heart stuttered at the thought of him leaving.

“So, this is it?” she asked. Damn her voice for wavering.

Claude nodded. “Seems tacky for me to stick around after abdicating, don’t you think? But I was hoping you’d come with me. So, you know, I could show you what’s better than leading the Alliance.”

“You and your secrets.” If her wounds didn’t still pain her, she would have slugged him.

“I want to reveal everything to you, but I can’t if you won’t accompany me.”

“Claude!” Oh, she could kill him. Schemes upon schemes, and now he was asking her to take a leap of faith and follow him goddess-only-knew where.

“Will you at least tell me where we’re going, or is that secret, too?”

“No, no secret. I’m taking you back to House Goneril.”

Hilda blinked. It was just one unexpected thing after another. Her head spun.

“I want to ask your brother permission to take you on a journey.”

That wasn’t really the permission she was hoping he’d ask for, but at least it made sense. It was the first thing that had come out of his mouth today that had.

“This is…what are you…”

Claude extended his hand. He wore a smile, but it was weak and thin. “I thought you wanted to meet my parents. This is it, your only chance to learn all my secrets. So, what do you say?”

“Fine, you bully,” her heart said before her brain gave permission.

“Excellent.”

Claude smiled. It was the first genuine smile she’d seen on his face in a long time, and it was a balm to her heart. In fact, he actually appeared excited as he reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and slid it onto her finger.

It was a wedding band.

“Wh-what’s this?”

“It’s just gold-plated steel.” Claude raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. He wore a matching ring. “But they’ll do the trick.”

“You know what I mean.”

His smile grew impish as he handed her the pack under his arm. “It’s a disguise to make our trip easier. A young, unmarried couple making their way to Fódlan’s Locket is notable. A married pair of traders, not so much. Wear the clothes in the pack. You can use the gatehouse to change.”

Claude helped Hilda into the gatehouse. He closed the shutters and went to leave when she put her hand on his arm.

“My wounds,” Hilda said. “I’m not sure I can…”

Claude swallowed. “Right. Happy to help.”

The pack contained a plain white shirt, voluminous trousers gathered at the ankles, a pair of low boots, and a knee-length coat of subdued cloth. Claude pulled off her boots and stockings and set them aside, his hands lingering on the curve of her calf. His cheeks burned red even in the dim light coming through the shutters as he unbuckled her belt and put it on a chair. He unfastened her overskirt and slowly slid his fingers down her arms as he removed her sleeves. She shuddered at the caress, and goosebumps appeared on her skin. His breathing grew ragged as he drew near and unbuttoned her collar, the sound loud in the quiet of the guardhouse.

Before he could pull her bodice away, she stopped him. His hand was warm beneath hers.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” she murmured.

Claude’s breath hitched, and a tremor ran through him. She winced at the pressure on one of her wounds as he pulled her to him. He immediately stepped away, hands raised, and she barely caught her dress before the top fell away and exposed her chest. Her cheeks warmed, and she hugged her bodice more tightly.

“I’m sorry.” Claude handed her the shirt and turned his back.

Hilda hissed as she slid the shirt over her head. Her dress slumped to the ground around her ankles. She took a deep, steadying breath.

When she was ready, she said, “You can turn around.”

Claude’s gaze swept her bare legs before darting to her face. He helped her into the rest of outfit, even tying her boots as her heart pounded. Her pulse finally settled as he gathered her hair into a ponytail, twisted it into a bun, and put a shapeless hat on her head. She raised her eyebrow at him.

“You’re recognizable.” He grinned. “No point in pretending to be traders if you’re not disguised.”

“Like you’re not easy to recognize.”

Claude shrugged. He opened his own pack and pulled out a tunic. His eyes locked with hers as he unbuttoned his shirt. She refused to let him see her squirm. It was too dim in the guardhouse to get a good look at him, anyway. However, the angle of the light that managed to filter through the shutters revealed a sculpted chest and abdomen. If she hadn’t been so sore, she would have been disappointed when he slipped the tunic over his head. He wrapped a sash around his waist and another around his head. Lightweight green cloaks finished the look for both of them. It might be Blue Sea Moon, but this far north, it was still chilly in the mornings.

When Claude opened the shutters again and light streamed in, it became obvious that the style was similar to what he wore in battle. Hilda had always wondered if there was significance to it, since it was unusual attire for Fódlan.

“You really are Almyran,” she said.

Claude cocked his head, eyebrow raised. “You knew?”

“Was I supposed to think you just had a really great tan?”

He snorted. “Fair enough.”

Hilda adjusted her own sash. He definitely wasn’t full Almyran, what with his Crest. In Fódlan, having a Crest and a noble title granted a large amount of social capital. But what did a mixed heritage mean in Almyra? She wondered what his life had been like growing up.

“Wait, are you asking permission to take me to Almyra?” she asked as he escorted her to her horse. “If so, we could have just sailed there. It’s much shorter than going through Fódlan’s Locket.”

“Have to ask your brother, remember?”

“He’ll never say yes. The Almyrans are our sworn enemies.”

“Maybe we’ll be pleasantly surprised. I admit, I had expected you to balk at the idea of traveling to the land of your foes.”

Hilda thought about how she’d embarrassed herself with Cyril back at the monastery and how Holst had scolded her for her prejudices. No, that sort of ignorance wouldn’t do. “I’m curious to see what the fashions are like. I’m always on the lookout for new ideas for accessories.”

“That reminds me, I have something else for you.”

The look on his face indicated it wasn’t at all something that had slipped his mind. His nonchalance was too studied. He reached into his pocket again. Judging by his demeanor, this was a lot more important to him than the fake wedding band had been.

Claude pulled out a bangle, a narrow strip of gold with tiny mirrors and bits of onyx and deep, sparkling green aventurine embedded in the metal. The piece reminded her of his eyes. Although it wasn’t her style, it was beautiful all the same. He held it out to her with both hands, expression solemn.

“Will you accept this as a gift of my heart?” he asked. “And know that I will be loyal and faithful to you?”

Hilda swallowed. That sounded serious, not to mention a bit strange, especially coming from Claude. It almost felt like a proposal. Just accepting a bit of jewelry wasn’t a big deal, surely.

“It’s lovely.” She held out her wrist, and he slid it on. “Thank you.”

The joy dancing in his eyes seemed entirely unwarranted, but she wasn’t going to say no to such an adoring gaze. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“Now we each have a bracelet,” he said.

That made much more sense. The colors even matched. How sweet.

“Well.” He rubbed his hands together. “Shall we be off?”

She blinked. “Now? I don’t have any of my things. I’m not even a tiny bit ready.”

“Don’t worry about it. They’re being packed now and will be shipped to your estate.”

“Bit presumptuous, don’t you think? You were really that certain I’d just go gallivanting across the country with you?”

“You’ve protected me—at great risk to your own life—twice now. Besides,” he said as he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I remember the passion in our kiss.”

The core of her heated as she recalled the way his mouth felt. Her gaze darted to his lips, and he noticed. A grin spread across his face.

“So, my lovely pretend wife, shall we go?”

A pleasurable shiver ran down Hilda’s spine. “I suppose, my handsome pretend husband.”

Claude helped her mount. She gasped and winced as her injuries pulled. His brow rumpled, and his hand lingered on her knee.

“I take it back,” he said. “We should wait another day. Your wounds were pretty bad. A few more healing sessions would probably do the trick.”

“Ugh, you tell me that _after_ you make get me up on this horse? I think I’ll leave without you.”

Claude chuckled and squeezed her knee. “All right, my queen.”

His tone dripped with sarcasm, but she liked the sound of that. Queen. Yes, if it meant he was going to wait on her hand and foot, she liked it quite a lot.

“You have Freikugel?” Hilda asked as Claude mounted.

“In the packs.”

“And Failnaught?”

“I gave it to Dimitri.”

Hilda nearly dropped the reins. “What?”

“I’m done with Crests and Relics. Besides, it’s not going to help me get what I want.”

“Which is?”

Claude fell silent, expression pensive as they rode out the gate. The city walls loomed behind them, ringed by the Kingdom’s soldiers’ camps. Rolling hills scattered with copses of trees stretched out before them. The grass sparkled with dew, scenting the air. Birds chirped and sang as they darted through the air. It was a fresh, beautiful morning. The start of something new.

Hilda took a deep breath and smiled despite the aching of her injuries. Besides, if she hadn’t fought so hard, Claude might not be riding next to her. Things could have turned out very differently. She wouldn’t say she’d saved his life, but she’d definitely protected him.

“You’re going to judge me if I tell you,” Claude finally said when they were a mile out of town, the Kingdom forces and Derdriu far behind.

“And the professor didn’t. Is that why you always smiled so genuinely at him?”

Claude shrugged.

“If you looked at me like that—” Hilda shut her mouth before she could give herself away. Claude had always been too easy to talk to.

He raised his eyebrow, a crafty smile winding across his face. “You’d what?”

Hilda considered. Perhaps the truth would throw him the most off-balance.

“I might not be able to resist you,” she finished.

Claude’s eyes widened.

“It’s going to be a long trip,” Hilda continued. “You might as well tell me.”

His jaw clenched, and he took a deep breath. “I want to change things, all these prejudices that have taken root. I want to bring the whole world together and start anew. I want to give everyone a fresh perspective. No one should feel like an outsider, at least not because of nationality, race, or ethnicity.”

Hilda stared at him. She’d always figured he’d had ambitions, but this was on a different level altogether.

“Yeah.” Claude smiled to himself and shook his head. “Grand plans, I know. For a long time, I thought it might be impossible. Then I met the professor, and it seemed like it might be within my grasp after all. All we have to do is reach out with love and friendship to create a new path, one all of us can walk together.”

A twinge ran through Hilda’s chest. Was it wrong to be jealous of the professor? After all, she loved Byleth, too. Just not in the same way Claude seemed to.

“Things have changed, obviously,” Claude continued. “But I think I can still make my dream come true. With Teach on his side, Dimitri will win. He’ll unify Fódlan. He’s a good man, and he'll lay down a new set of values, ones that don’t exclude people for being different. He’ll help the common people. Even though he’s never been an outsider, he cares for them. Just look at his relationship with Dedue. Dimitri will use his privilege and power to do right by the people of Duscur. And, I hope, the people of Almyra.”

Claude caught Hilda’s gaze and held it. “You’re part of my dream, too, you know. In fact, you’re a very important piece of it. I can’t make it happen without you.”

Her heart warmed at his words before their true meaning hit her. She sighed. “Always nice to be used.”

“That’s not what I meant. I need you. In more ways than one.”

“Oh, really? I like the sound of that. Tell me more.”

His impish smile returned. “I will, when the time is right.”

“I should have known.” Hilda sighed, but she couldn’t help but return his smile.

They stopped for lunch on a grassy knoll. Claude had packed the meal, and he gave Hilda a vulnerary. She felt a little better once she drank it. After they ate, they sat side by side and watched the breeze play with the grasses. Wildflowers dotted the landscape. Hilda plucked a few nearby flowers along with some tall grasses and wove a loose crown. When it was finished, she placed it on his head, atop his wrap. He smiled—a soft, tender smile. She had certainly never seen him make that expression for the professor.

Hilda made another for herself and looped her arm through his with a smile. “Look at us, king and queen of Blue Sea Moon.”

“Royalty indeed,” he said, and his gaze grew distant.

Hilda’s smile faded.

Claude removed his arm from hers and put it around her waist instead. “Sometimes it’s like you can read my mind.”

Her cheeks warmed as she leaned into him. It felt right and natural to be next to him like this, to have him hold her. She didn’t resist when he laid her down in the grass. He leaned over her. The end of his head wrap dangled in her face, and she barely had time to turn her head before she sneezed. He chuckled and moved it out of the way. It flopped right back in her face.

He tried twice more before he finally ripped off the wrap with a curse and tossed it away. Hilda laughed, and he joined in. There it was—the smile she’d always wanted to see directed at her. His eyes shone, and the corners crinkled. Happy. Carefree.

Claude propped himself up on his elbow next to her. He brushed her cheek with his thumb. Her breath caught in her throat, and she grew still. The sounds of the wind in the grass and the birds chirping fell away.

Part of her wanted this moment to last forever. Her wounds said otherwise.

Hilda put her hand over his and leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. “Will I have to sleep on the ground tonight?”

“No, of course not. But we should get moving if we’re going to make it to the inn.”

He helped her stand but didn’t let go of her hand. Their eyes met, and his expression turned solemn. “On the bridge, when you fell, it was like an arrow through my heart. That you were fighting to protect me, that you were willing to…well. I don’t know if I can express how much that means to me.”

“You’re welcome to try,” she said with a smile and squeezed his hand.

Claude snorted and smiled back. “I do like a challenge. I want you to remember you said that. Don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Hilda barely refrained from asking what, exactly, he meant as he retrieved his headwrap and helped her on her horse. Thanks to the vulnerary, she wasn’t in so much pain. The day was beautiful, her stomach was full, and she had a handsome man at her side. Couldn’t ask for much more than that. All right, maybe she could, and she planned to, but not just yet. There was still a long way to go until they reached House Goneril.

This could be a very fun trip.


	11. Chapter 11

They didn’t arrive in the town until nightfall. Light shone from inside the houses, windows thrown open to the summer evening. It was warm but not hot, and Hilda was comfortable in her long-sleeved coat, although she’d stowed the cloak a long time ago. Purple and orange painted the sky as their horses plodded along the stone-paved road. Flower baskets hanging from eaves scented the air. Somewhere, a baby cried, and children shrieked with laughter.

Strange, to be reminded of what normal life was like, away from war.

“I think it’s this way,” Claude said, steering their pack train down a side street that opened up on a square. Sure enough, an inn and a bath house stood side by side, one with a sign depicting a fish in a bed and the other a fish in a bathtub.

Hilda giggled. “They must like fish. Reminds me of Flayn. Did she come to Derdriu with the professor?”

“Yeah.” An odd expression flitted over his face. “She’s mostly the reason you lived. Not to minimize Mercedes’s help, of course. I’m not sure I thanked either of them enough.”

They stopped in front of the inn. A stable hand appeared as Claude helped Hilda down from her horse. She yelped, her wounds pulling, and sagged in Claude’s arms.

“Let’s get you inside,” he murmured.

Claude kept his arm around her as she limped into the building. The common room was orderly and comfortable, people eating at tables alone or in groups as a fiddler played in a corner. Delicious smells—something spicy as well as baking bread—wafted from the kitchen. Claude and Hilda approached the desk, and the innkeeper joined them a moment later.

“Nice, peaceful town,” Claude said. “Seems like it’s been spared from the war so far.”

The innkeeper smiled as she opened the logbook. “We’re off the beaten path, and Duke Riegan keeps us safe. Long may he live.”

Hilda glanced at Claude. His smile grew wooden.

“And you are?” the innkeeper asked, pen poised above the book.

“The Valentines,” Claude replied. “My messenger should have come through here a week or so ago?”

“Ah, there you are. I see you’ve even paid in advance.”

A week ago? Claude must have been confident in all his plans. Not that she was annoyed—that would require energy she didn’t have. Hilda leaned more heavily on Claude. It hurt to stand, and she was saddle sore. Bed sounded like an excellent idea. Unfortunately, she was filthy from the road.

“Darling?” Hilda put her hand on Claude’s chest. “Will we be able to rest soon?”

Color stole into Claude’s cheeks as he looked down at her. “Yes, my dear.” He turned to the innkeeper. A gold coin glinted between his fingers. “Would it be possible to have dinner served in our room?”

The innkeeper snatched the coin out of his hand. “Absolutely, sir. Will you be requiring the use of the bath house?”

“Yes, please.”

The innkeeper handed them each a wooden token, painted with the image of a fish wearing a towel. If fish wasn’t on the menu for dinner, Hilda was going to be disappointed. Good thing she liked fish.

Ugh, her thoughts were wandering. That was a sure sign of her exhaustion. She missed the rest of Claude’s exchange with the innkeeper, and before she knew it, he was helping her up the stairs. Stupid stairs. By the time Claude unlocked the door to their room and guided her inside, her wounds throbbed. He set her on the edge of the bed and locked the door behind them.

There was only one bed. They were posing as a married couple, after all. How nice it would be to be able to actually sleep in each other’s arms and not worry about being woken by summons or news of war.

Hilda began to peel off her jacket but had to stop to catch the bottle Claude tossed at her. She uncorked the vulnerary and took numerous gulps to drink it down, fighting her gag reflex. Why did healing potions always have to be so bitter? She shuddered and put the bottle on the bedside table.

“We’ll have to get more of those, Claude said. “Your injuries are worse than I thought.”

He’d managed to remove his boots, sash, headwrap, and tunic while she suffered through the vulnerary. As she’d suspected, he had a muscular torso. The dark hair in the center of his chest ran in a line down his taut stomach and into his trousers. She warmed at the thought of running her fingers through that hair, his muscles hard beneath.

“You’re going to have hairy shoulders when you get older,” she said.

Claude spluttered and burst out laughing. “You look at this—” He gestured to his naked torso. “And _that’s_ all you can think about?”

Hilda shrugged and unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt. Just a few more and her breasts would pop free. “What do you think about when you look at me?”

“I think about how spoiled you are, and I realize I wouldn’t mind being the one to spoil you.”

“I like the sound of that,” Hilda began.

Then Claude dropped his trousers. Riding wyverns had sculpted his rear, legs, and hips. Words deserted Hilda. She stared, openmouthed.

“I forgot what prudes you folks from Fódlan are.” Claude shot her a wicked smile, hands on hips, wares on display. “Are you going to be all right?”

His tone snapped Hilda out of it. She undid another button and looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes. “I’ll manage. Will you?”

Claude’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he was no longer fully flaccid. He threw on the robe supplied by the inn. An embroidered fish in a bathtub graced the left breast.

“These guys are really trying to get their image across,” Claude said. “Your turn to get ready. Need help?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

Claude turned around. Hilda managed to get undressed thanks to the vulnerary, but she’d broken out in a sweat by the time she was finished. Between the pain and road dust, she felt anything but attractive. She pulled on the robe in a huff.

“For someone who likes to be waited on, you’re surprisingly stubborn,” Claude said as he draped her arm over his shoulder. Somehow, he made it seem like a lover’s embrace instead of the fact he was half-carrying her. They made it down the stairs to the hallway that connected the bath house to the inn. Claude’s face grew red as he hauled her to the entrance to the women’s room, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from proximity.

Claude set her on a bench next to the door and gulped air. “You’re a lot heavier than you look.”

Pain be damned, Hilda got ready to smack him.

“But it’s probably because you’re so strong,” Claude finished.

Hilda relaxed her fist and smoothed out her robe. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“You going to be all right?”

“Silly. Although if you’re offering to give me a scrub, maybe we should go back to our room.”

Claude chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. The ring on his finger glinted, and something in Hilda’s chest lurched. She looked at her own hand. What would it be like if they truly were married? Claude’s parents had eloped…

But no. Holst would kill her.

“See you in a bit,” Claude said and disappeared into the men’s section.

Letting Claude drag her down here had conserved some of Hilda’s energy, so she mustered what remained and went to take a bath. Fortunately, the buckets were small and light. Her injuries didn’t care how strong she usually was. She sat on the stool, poured water over her head, scrubbed, poured more water, washed her hair, and retreated to the pool. Good thing she was on the short side, because the pool was shallow. She allowed herself a few minutes of relaxation before getting out. Her fingers probed her wounds, testing for tenderness. The skin had knit, but she’d have scars. Her poor, beautiful skin. Oh, well.

Somehow, she beat Claude to the room. Dinner was waiting on a cart. Hilda dug in the packs, pulled out a nightshirt, and put it on. She draped her robe over a chair and sat on the edge of the bed. The moisture from her hair began to wick into the fabric of the nightshirt. Oops. She twisted her hair up on top of her head and began to remove the nightshirt.

“Honey, I’m back,” Claude said on the other side of the door.

“Don’t—” she began, but it was too late. The nightshirt was already up to her neck when Claude entered. She immediately dropped it, but the wet fabric clung to her chest and revealed everything beneath.

Claude clapped his hands over his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Do we have an extra nightshirt? I’m super wet.”

Claude groaned. “Please don’t say it like that.”

He was still wearing his fluffy robe. It appeared absorbent. Hilda crossed the room and pressed against him with a smile. Claude stiffened, one part in particular. He took a step back, snatched her robe from the chair, and wrapped it around her before she could protest.

“I sure could go for something to eat,” he said. “You hungry?”

“Oh, yes.” Hilda made sure he saw her looking him up and down.

He shook his head with a smile. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“Are you going to give me…trouble?”

Claude loomed over her. His arm snaked around her back as he pressed against her just like she had done a few moments before. He bent his head until his lips grazed her ear. “I’ll give you as much as you like.”

Hilda jerked as Claude ran his tongue over the curve of her ear. The movement pulled one of the larger wounds in her side, and she hissed as she hunched over, turning away from him. There were few things she hated as much as someone seeing her in pain.

“And that’s enough for now,” Claude said. He seated her and rolled the cart closer. When he took the lid off the tureen, the smell of cheese wafted toward her.

Hilda blinked at the dish, pain forgotten. “Is this cheesy Verona stew?”

“It is. A special off-menu dish, just for you. Made with river trout instead, but I hope you’ll like it all the same.”

“It’s one of my favorites.”

Claude winked at her and served her a bowl. Hilda took a bite and moaned. It wasn’t the same, but it was still good. That he had gone through the trouble touched her. In fact, he’d been very attentive.

He must have been just as famished as she, for silence fell as they ate. When they finished, not a crumb of food remained. Hilda sighed and leaned back in her chair, bowl in her lap.

“Thank you,” she said. “I really enjoyed that.”

“Only the best for you.”

“Are you the best?” Hilda took her hair out of the bun and shook it out.

Claude didn’t respond, a half-smile on his lips.

“What?” she asked.

“I like the way you look with your hair down.”

“Speaking of which, did you bring a brush? We left so suddenly…”

Claude rummaged in the packs and produced a brush. “Ta-daa. Don’t worry, your things have probably left Derdriu by now and are on their way to House Goneril.”

Instead of handing her the brush, Claude stood behind her and began to work out the tangles in her hair. Hilda leaned into his touch and closed her eyes as he brushed her hair with gentle strokes. There was no fire to dry her hair by, so she’d just have to hope she didn’t catch a chill. Somehow, she thought that unlikely since she was sharing a bed with Claude.

Claude braided her hair. The plaits were even and tight. Who’d have thought he could braid so well? Then he fished out another nightshirt for her, she changed, and they went to clean their teeth. It felt strange, standing next to him in the communal washroom, looking in the mirror at each other while they got ready for bed. It was natural, somehow.

“Drink another vulnerary,” Claude said as they returned to their room.

“Ugh, no. I just brushed my teeth.”

“There’s nothing sweet in it, otherwise it’d be less vile. Just drink it.”

“Fine.” She slid into bed while he fetched it. He handed it to her and slipped out of the robe, naked.

Hilda glanced away while he got into bed next to her. “Don’t you have underwear?”

“Underwear has never been my style. And you got my nightshirt all wet, so…”

Hilda chugged the vulnerary to distract herself.

When she was finished, she gave him the bottle, and he put it on the bedside table. Seemed they were gathering quite the collection. She sighed and settled back on the pillows. He radiated body heat. When she glanced up at him, Claude was looking at her with a strange expression.

“What?” she asked.

The corner of Claude’s mouth curved. “Sometimes, I think just being with you is enough. I feel like I could be perfectly happy going to sleep and waking up like this for the rest of my life and forget my grand ambitions. But if I did, then other people would have to go through what I did.”

“Which was what, again? Oh, that’s right, you never told me.”

Claude extended his arm, and she snuggled against him with a sigh, warm and safe. She ran her fingers through his chest hair.

“It wasn’t easy to be only half Almyran,” he said, “just like it’s not easy to be only half Fódlish. If I wasn’t related to a powerful noble family, and if I didn’t have a Crest, my experience in Fódlan would have been very different. It still wasn’t easy.”

“People are so stupid. I’ve been stupid about that sort of thing, too.”

Claude smiled at her.

“There it is,” Hilda said. “I’ve only ever seen you smile like that at the professor. You know, I always thought you were in love with him.”

Claude covered her hand with his, thumb resting on her fake wedding band. “Fooled you. He was never the one I loved.”

Hilda turned toward Claude. He was close, so very close, and getting closer by the second. She tilted her chin up as his eyes slid closed. Hers did the same. She put her hand on his cheek as warmth spread through her. His kiss was as sweet and gentle as she ever could have wanted. Even so, it wasn’t innocent. He sucked on her bottom lip, and a thrill went through her.

“I counted on you running away during the battle,” Claude murmured when they broke apart. “Why didn’t you run? Watching you defend the bridge…you were magnificent, but it was terrifying.”

“Why do you think, dummy?”

He kissed her again, deeper this time. Her hand wandered down his neck to his collarbones and onto his muscular chest. He gripped her waist and pulled her close.

Claude moved away from her mouth and kissed her cheeks, forehead, and nose. “I’m sorry, I was selfish. We should have stayed in Derdriu and let you get more healing and rest.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hilda said, angling for his mouth.

“It’s not fine. You’re important to me, and I just kept pushing you.”

“You also practically carried me.”

She caught his lips, and he pressed against her. Her hand moved from his chest to his head, tangling in his dark, wavy locks. He made a sound as she opened her mouth to him, and his tongue slipped inside. His fingers tightened on her hip.

“We should get married for real,” he said, breath ragged. “Didn’t you once say eloping was romantic? Let’s do it. Let’s elope.”

“You just want to get under my skirt.”

“I’d be a liar if I said that wasn’t part of it. But—”

“I hate to break it to you, but I intend to stay a virgin until I’m married, and I won’t get married without my family’s blessing.”

“There are many ways to make love. And like I was trying to say, that’s not why I want to get married.”

Hilda fought a yawn and lost. The aching of her body made her heavy and sluggish. She sighed and rested her head against Claude’s shoulder.

“Let’s get some rest,” Claude said. “We can talk more about this later. It’s still a ways to Goneril territory.”

Claude blew out the candles and held her until she fell asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first of the chapters that's radically cleaned up for a T audience. MA version is over at adpauli dot com /fanfics/kings-game.

Claude ground his teeth and gripped the reins of his horse. Days of traveling with Hilda, days of sharing a bed, and yet due to her injuries, he didn’t dare do more than kiss her. Desire danced in her eyes as well, which only made it harder to maintain his discipline. Yet that wasn’t the worst of it. He was tired of hauling around all his secrets. The moments they spent talking before sleep, heads together on their pillow, filled a void in him that he hadn’t known existed. But if he told Hilda everything, she might leave him, and she was integral to his plan.

Fortunately, she was healing quickly. He’d picked up another bunch of vulneraries at the last village. Good thing, too, because the roads were growing more dangerous the farther south they got. They had to take side roads or cut across fields in order to avoid soldiers from both the Empire and Alliance. He’d risked Hilda’s life in battle too many times already. He wouldn’t do it again.

They picked their way along the narrow path through some woods. It was nearly evening, honeyed light filtering through the dense canopy above. Birds chirped, and the scent of cool soil and leaf litter surrounded them.

“Are we going to have to camp tonight?” Hilda asked. “It doesn’t look like there are any villages this way.”

Claude looked over his shoulder and shot her a grin. “You can use me as your mattress, if you like.”

Hilda sighed.

He opened his mouth to speak, but someone had dropped out of the tree behind her. Claude’s hand went to his sword. By the time he drew it, more people had appeared. Claude dismounted and held his weapon at the ready. There were eight of them. Not good odds.

“Give us your money and your woman and we’ll let you live,” one of the men said.

Claude narrowed his eyes. Their weapons were high quality, and they wore bits and pieces of armor. Deserters, then. Damn. That sort tended to be even more desperate than run-of-the-mill thieves, not to mention more skilled.

“You can have the money, but leave my wife alone,” Claude said.

Hilda’s cheeks turned pink as she looked at him.

“Aw, ain’t that sweet,” the leader said, hefting his battle ax and putting it on his shoulder. “But no. It’s an all-or-nothing kind of deal.”

“No deal,” Claude said and rushed them.

The merchant ruse must have worked, because he managed to kill two of them before the others even moved. He circled, weapon raised, as they closed in. No matter how good they were, he had to be better.

The deserters kept their distance. Perhaps they’d noticed he knew how to use his weapon and wasn’t afraid to do so. Then Claude’s vision exploded with stars as something hit him in the back of the head. A rock? He staggered and fell to his knees.

“He’s worth more alive than dead,” Hilda said. Her tone seemed calm, but Claude knew her well enough to catch the tension beneath. “He’s the only son of a very rich trader.”

The leader seemed to consider her words. “All right, take them captive.”

Three men forced Claude to the ground. Dirt puffed up from the road and crunched between his molars as they put a knee against his spine and hog-tied him. Blood trickled down the back of his neck. Two others dragged Hilda from her horse and tied her up next to him. The deserters pulled sacks over their heads, and Claude’s senses were limited to hearing and the smell of onions.

“Offering your husband up for ransom, huh?” the leader said. “I can’t tell if that means you care about him or not.”

“Oh, I don’t,” Hilda replied. “Ours was an arranged marriage. I had very little say.”

Damn it, she was finding ways to get in digs in this situation? Claude had underestimated her. He tried the ropes, but they held tight.

“In fact,” Hilda continued, “you don’t even have to force me. It’ll be nice to be with some real men for once.”

Claude clenched his teeth. That was taking a bit far. She didn’t even know what he was like in bed. Besides, the risk—

“Honey, no,” he said, struggling, and got cuffed in the side of the head for his efforts. He coughed as road dust filtered through the fabric of the sack.

“It’s too bad I’m tied up.” Hilda’s voice had taken on a cadence Claude recognized. “Otherwise, I could show you a very good time.”

What was she up to? Claude turned his head, trying to hear better. Damn it, he had no idea what was going on. The deserters laughed, and the sound of rope hitting the ground reached his ears. Hilda’s giggle joined them.

“I can only handle you…hmm, two at a time. Unless some of you want solo runs.”

Claude strained at the ropes, heart thundering in his chest. Sweat worked its way down his temple. Was she crazy? They’d take advantage of her and kill her when they were done. The thought of them taking off her clothes, touching her, made him shake and want to vomit. If he had his sword, he’d gladly shove it through their faces.

Their voices grew more distant. Claude tried to follow, but his bonds didn’t allow him to do anything more than squirm in the dirt. So much for his brilliant plan to get her to House Goneril and propose.

Hilda screamed, and his blood ran cold. No, she had only just healed! If they hurt her, he didn’t care if he had to come back from the dead to make them pay.

Other screams joined hers, and only then did he realize Hilda’s scream had been a battle cry. Claude whipped his head around, trying to make sense of the sounds. The tang of blood cut through the musty onion smell in the sack. His pulse rushed in his ears. He renewed his efforts to break free as metal clanged on metal and the screams continued.

Claude winced, blinded, when the sack was ripped off his head. He blinked. Blood spattered the road and the corpses which lay upon it. Hilda stood in front of him, jacket open and shirt unbuttoned past her sternum, the leader’s battle axe slung over her shoulder. More blood splashed her face and clothing.

“Whew,” Hilda said, dropping the sack. “Now I’m all sweaty.”

Claude stared at her.

She tossed the battle axe aside. “What? Oh, rats. I got blood on my clothes. I must look a fright.”

Claude snorted. Right, as if it were her appearance that was frightening, not the fact she’d just taken on six soldiers single-handedly and didn’t have a scratch on her. By the look of it, the men hadn’t even taken down their trousers yet.

“You’re amazing,” Claude said. Strong, clever, beautiful, skilled…Hilda was the whole package.

Hilda picked up a knife and cut his bonds. She kissed his wrists where the ropes had chafed. “I suspect it’s getting harder and harder to keep your expectations low,” she said.

Claude grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. Their tongues twined. He wanted to be closer, so much closer than this. But it wasn’t the time or place.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Claude said when they pulled apart. Hilda’s lips were red from kissing, and which just made him want to kiss her again.

Hilda smiled sheepishly. “I’m afraid the horses ran away during the fight.”

Claude kissed her once more for good measure and drank a vulnerary for his head injury before they went to find the animals. Two hours later, they were on their way again. They rode on until they found a stream. By then, it was nearly dark. They quickly made camp. Hilda insisted on setting up the tent so they didn’t get eaten alive by mosquitos while they slept.

Claude smiled to himself. Little did she know that mosquitos weren’t the only thing that would be trying to eat her tonight.

Hilda took a bath in the stream while Claude cleaned his wound and threw together dinner. He made some rice and lentils with carrots along with some greens he foraged in the woods. It was done by the time she’d dressed and joined him by the fire. She wore the underdress she’d favored from before the battle of Derdriu. It left very little to the imagination, and Claude’s imagination was already overactive.

“You don’t seem too keen on the idea of marrying me,” he said as he handed her a bowl. “Is it the ‘me’ part or the ‘marriage’ part?”

“I feel like telling you takes all the fun out of it.”

Claude snorted. “I can see I’m going to have to take a different approach.”

“Tell me more.”

“Later. Let’s eat dinner first.”

Hilda pouted, but she complied. They ate in silence. Claude’s earlier fear for her replayed in his head. He’d already waited too long.

Once he cleaned up dinner, they sat side by side next to the fire. Hilda had piled her damp hair on top of her head, exposing her neck. Claude pulled her into his lap. She looked up at him, cheeks matching her hair, and he was lost. He pressed his lips to hers and teased her mouth open, the closest he could get to her.

Hilda wrapped her arms around his neck. The dress exposed most of her back and sides, and he ran his fingers over her silky skin. She shivered, but she didn’t flinch with pain. Good, her wounds had finally healed.

But just a shiver wasn’t enough—he wanted her to writhe. He unfastened her collar and replaced the fabric with his mouth. She moaned and tilted her chin up, granting him easier access, and he ran his tongue down her throat. When he reached her collarbones, he tipped her back and nuzzled the space between the tops of her breasts.

Hilda gasped and arched her back. He continued to nibble her through her clothes, watching her skin flush from her chest up to her cheeks. Her eyes slid closed, and her lips grew red.

“Should we retire to the tent?” Claude whispered against her skin.

“Yes, let’s.” Hilda’s voice was breathy.

Claude refastened her collar. Hilda closed her eyes and shuddered at even that simple touch. It was as if someone had doused him in lamp oil and tossed a match onto him. The way she looked in the firelight, with her pale skin and soft curves, and the desire in her expression made it difficult to not push her down in the grass and take her. But that would spoil the game, and Claude loved nothing more than winning.

He took her hand and led her to the tent. She hesitated at the flap, and he caressed her cheek.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

Hilda nodded and crawled into the tent. Claude banked the fire then hurried to join her. Please let her not be undressed yet. He wanted that pleasure for himself.

She was wrapped up in the blankets by the time he entered the tent. He discarded his headwrap and tunic, all the ways he was going to please her running through his mind. He throbbed with anticipation. Those breasts deserved proper worship—

Fingers slid over his ribs to his chest and toyed with his hair as a warm mouth nibbled his neck. He shuddered and closed his eyes as her hand explored the muscles of his stomach. His earring clicked against her teeth as she gently tugged on it.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered into his ear. “I adore your body.”

Claude chuckled. “You stole my line.”

Hilda’s tongue flicked his ear and traced the tendon in his neck. His breath hitched in his throat. There was no way he could reciprocate, not with her behind him.

Claude turned and caught her wrists. He held her, trembling, trying to regain control. Hilda didn’t want intercourse, she’d said she was saving herself.

Then Hilda reversed their grips. Her hand was too small to hold both his wrists at once, but she clenched both his thumbs in one hand and pushed him to the blankets. It was too dark to see well, but he suspected there was a wicked gleam in her eye.

Her grip on his thumbs was so tight he’d dislocate his joints if he tried to free himself. The heat inside him built. She kept him pinned—damn, she was strong—and licked his throat. Soon he was the one moaning and writhing.

“Either touch me or let me go,” Claude finally rasped.

Hilda snorted. “I was planning on it anyway.”

She explored his body with her free hand and mouth. Everywhere she touched, he sparked. All the nerves in his body sang with her music.

“Very nice,” she purred against his neck.

Claude struggled for air, for discipline. “How is it that you’re so perfect for me?” he finally managed.

His words must have caught her off-guard, for she stopped her ministrations. It was the opportunity he needed to roll her onto her back. She lost her grip on him, and now he had access to everything he wanted. The noises she made drove his desire to new heights. Her fingers twined in his hair, pressing him to her.

It took a little experimentation, but they found a position where they each could pleasure the other. The sound of their feverish breathing blocked out the night.

“I love you,” Claude murmured against her breast as she made delicious sounds.

Finally being able to touch and taste Hilda the way he’d always wanted to was a dream come true. She filled his senses and his heart until the rest of the world fell away. All too soon, they finished. Claude cleaned himself up and gathered Hilda into his arms. She melted against him with a sigh. It was almost perfect.

“Did you say something during?” Hilda asked.

Claude was barely conscious. “Me? Nah.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Marry me and I’ll tell you.”

“Ugh. Why are you so persistent about this whole marriage thing?”

“Why do you think?”

“I’m guessing you need my Crest or my Relic to help you back in Almyra?”

Cold cut through Claude’s euphoria. That’s what she thought? But he’d tried to be so attentive and kind. She already knew she was his best friend.

“Although you have your own,” she continued, “so maybe it’s cultural, or your hands are tied for some reason. I’m a little embarrassed to admit I don’t know much about Almyra.”

Claude pulled her closer and squeezed his eyes shut. “Is that why you risked your life to keep the Imperial army from getting to me? Why you fought those deserters off earlier?”

“No, silly. It’s because that’s what I’m supposed to do. Dimitri has Dedue, Edelgard has Hubert, and you have me. You’re my best friend. Besides, my brother would be disappointed in me if I didn’t do my duty, and you do _not_ want to be around my brother when he’s disappointed.”

The cold speared him through the center of his chest. This was all wrong. How could he have misread the situation so badly? He pulled away and crawled to the tent flap, dragging what he hoped was his tunic. “I’ll take first watch.”

“Claude? Are you all right?”

“You should get some rest.”

The cool night air felt good against his skin. He waited a few minutes before pulling on his tunic. The fire remained banked, since he didn’t want to draw unwanted attention or sacrifice his night vision. He made sure his sword was nearby and settled down to keep watch.

Hilda’s words echoed in his head. She didn’t trust his motivations, eh? That was he got for being a schemer. If that was how she felt, if all of this was only physical, and their connection was based purely on her wanting to please her family, then fine. He’d roll with it. Besides, she wasn’t wrong. Having a queen from Fódlan would help his cause, and maybe her sense of duty would ensure they were married anyway.

Who was he kidding? He didn’t want it to be a one-sided love, or a purely physical one. Assuming he’d have no problems becoming king was also wishful thinking.

That said, maybe he could prove to her that he was in love with her. She likely wouldn’t believe him if he said it. No, he’d have to come up with a plan to get her to marry him anyhow.

He had his whole watch to figure it out.


	13. Chapter 13

Hilda had the fire roaring and porridge going by the time Claude emerged from the tent. His hair was a mess, and he had bags under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept. Even so, the sight of him warmed her. The memory of his mouth on her, of his strong hands…. A pleasurable shiver ran through her.

“Good morning,” she said as she threw two handfuls of dried fruit into the pot.

Claude shot her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Her heart clenched, and her mouth flattened. She vaguely remembered their conversation the night before. He’d seemed upset when he left the tent for his watch. Apparently, he still was. But why?

He noticed the pot bubbling over the fire. His eyebrows rose. “You made breakfast? Seems like effort.”

“I know, but I figured I’d thank you.” Heat flooded her cheeks, and she twisted the ring on her finger, which felt more like a real wedding band with every day that passed. “For last night. I really enjoyed it.”

Claude blushed. “Me, too.”

Hilda’s heart lurched. He was adorable when he blushed. But he knew exactly how handsome he was and didn’t need her to say it. If only she could tell him how she really felt. She’d been so happy when he’d mentioned marriage, but she knew him too well. Usually, she was fine with him using her, since his schemes were often mutually beneficial, but she had her limits. Entering into a marriage where her husband didn’t truly love and trust her was one of them. She stirred some nuts into the porridge, dished up a portion, and handed it to him.

His fingers brushed hers as he took the wooden bowl. The heat inside her flared higher. She’d never been shy about getting what she wanted, and right now, she wanted him. A lot of tension had built up between them over the years, and one night had only released a tiny portion of it.

“Claude.”

He looked up at her, mouth full of porridge.

“Shall we play again before we pack up?”

Claude put down his spoon and swallowed. “I admit I was thinking along the same lines.”

Hilda smiled. They were aligned more often than not.

“But.”

That didn’t sound good.

“I was thinking, why not make it even more interesting?”

Ah, another one of his schemes. “How so?”

“If I can make you say my name in the throes of passion, you have to agree to marry me.”

Hilda snorted. She had better self-control than that. There was no way she’d lose. Although losing sounded sort of like winning.

“And if I win?” she asked.

He inclined his head. “Name it.”

“I want to know all your secrets right then and there. No waiting for whatever grand reveal you have planned.”

“Fair enough. So long as it doesn’t put anyone in danger, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“No penetration.”

“I would never do anything that you didn’t want.”

That would rather defeat the purpose, she supposed. The idea of him calling her name, pleading for release, set a fire low in her belly. Having Claude at her mercy sounded like a dream come true.

Hilda extended her hand. “Deal,” she said, and they shook.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Claude’s mood seemed to improve after that. His confidence was one of things that made him so sexy, and it had returned in spades. Hilda kept her gaze on him as she ate. Every time he looked her direction, she made sure to lick her spoon with long, slow strokes of her tongue. His throat bobbed, and he shifted where he sat. Good.

Once breakfast was over, it was late enough they had to pack quickly and be on their way, with no time for extra fun. They debated the merits of camping versus staying in villages as they went. It would be faster to go as the crow flew, but it was also riskier due to bandits and deserters.

The villages might not be much better, though. Some might be stationing enemy troops or wiped off the map by the war. In the end, they decided on a route that included both methods.

To Hilda’s relief, their first night was one in a village. Just because her injuries had healed didn’t mean she enjoyed sleeping on the cold, hard ground. The need to take watches when they camped also meant she didn’t even get to sleep with her head on Claude’s shoulder. After last night, she wanted to share a bed with him more than ever. Not only had his touch been magical, but she was surprised how much she missed waking up and seeing his handsome face next to her.

She wished she could marry him, regardless of his game. Her family’s permission might be hard to get now that he’d forfeited his title. Also, as close as they were, he still didn’t seem to trust her, and she wasn’t sure she could trust him. Maybe war had made her blind to the complexities of their relationship. His abdication stunt had shocked her, and she had no idea what his situation was in Almyra.

They rode into town at dusk. The single inn was small, but it was clean and, because of the war, empty. The people—mostly elderly and children—had a lean, hungry look to them. The majority of adults had gone to fight.

“I hate this,” Claude said as they climbed the stairs to their room, and Hilda knew he didn’t mean the fact they had to carry their own bags due to the innkeeper’s advanced age.

“I know,” she said. “I do, too. Hopefully, it’ll all be over soon.”

He nodded and opened the door to their room. A simple bed sat inside, along with a small table, a single chair, and an empty fireplace. A single window looked out onto the stable. There was barely enough room between the walls and the furniture for them to stand.

“Cozy,” Hilda said. “Good thing I like you so much.”

“Are you sure? Did your brother tell you to?” Claude said as he put down his bags.

Ah-ha. So that’s what was going on. A light, bubbly sensation filled her chest. If her words had upset him so much, maybe his offer of marriage wasn’t just a scheme after all. Or not only a scheme, at least. Could he…could he be in love with her?

Only one way to find out. She had to make him say her name.

They went down to dinner, which was home-baked bread served with a thin stew. The wine was on the sour side. Neither of them complained. In fact, Claude slipped more gold under his bowl after he settled the bill. He caught her gaze as he did so, eyebrow raised, and she nodded her approval. His smile was genuine, the first one she’d seen since the night before. The tightness in her chest eased a little.

Hilda excused herself to go to the privy and wash up. Claude was organizing their things when she returned. He was already stripped to the waist as he shook out their nightshirts and folded his tunic for tomorrow. The view was too good to waste, the muscles in his back and arms rippling with every movement. His schemes were such a defining aspect of his personality it was easy to forget he was a skilled warrior. She kept her gaze on him as she quickly and quietly stripped. She crept up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned, and his eyes widened. “What are you—”

“Sit down.” Hilda caressed his chest and herded him to the edge of the bed. His legs hit the mattress, and she pulled down his trousers. Claude’s gaze grew heavy with desire as she pushed him back on the bed. She took a step back, just out of reach, and let him have a good, long look.

Claude’s cheeks grew red. His lips parted, and his breathing quickened. She smiled. There was no way he was going to win the game.

Hilda fell upon him, using her mouth and hands to make him shudder. He felt so good. Giving him pleasure was more satisfying that she could have ever imagined. His skin was soft, and she lost no time in locating and memorizing every scar. Soon she had him right where she wanted him, his body clenched and trembling, his fingers tangled in her hair. When it was over, Claude flopped back onto the mattress and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

“I’m going to lose, aren’t I?” he said with a groan. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to elope?”

Hilda giggled. “You could just tell me all your secrets now.”

“I see.” His eyes slid closed. “I’ll have to seriously consider it.”

Which meant he wouldn’t. Hilda sighed. What was he so afraid of? She’d never known him to be fearful. But he also always had reasons for his actions and decisions. This time, she had no idea what they might be.

Hilda turned and picked up her nightgown. Claude’s hands clamped down on her hips and pulled her onto the bed. “Sorry, you’re not getting away that easily.”

His fingertips skated over her skin, his lips close behind. He was thorough in his exploration. Her pleasure built, a bonfire that consumed her flesh, bones, and soul. She gripped him with all her might as she lost herself in his caress.

“You are _really_ strong,” Claude said when she was spent. “Guess I’ll have to tie your hands to the headboard next time, so you don’t break me.”

Hilda throbbed at the notion. “All right. You feel so good.”

“My line,” he said, voice husky. “And the fact that you just agreed to being tied up is very, very hot.”

They got ready to go to sleep. Hilda cuddled against Claude. He was strong and warm and gentle against her.

“Admit it,” he said with a yawn. “I almost had you there.”

“In your dreams.”

“I just lived one—no, two—of my dreams.”

Claude gave her a squeeze and kissed her forehead. Hilda closed her eyes and sighed. This was usually her favorite part. Tonight, although they were pressed together, his arms around her, the distance between their hearts had widened. A hollow ache settled in her chest. She had no idea how to fill it.

Then a horrifying thought occurred to her—what if Claude asked her family for her hand, and they refused? Could she watch him ride away without her? _Would_ he ride away without her?

Hilda had always obeyed her family. It was less work and made things run smoothly. When she and Claude had spoken of his parents eloping, he’d said it wasn’t a matter of could, it was a matter of would. She saw what he meant now. They could get married tomorrow, if she just said the word.

None of that changed the fact she couldn’t marry a man who didn’t love her. Sure, he was her best friend and enjoyed her body, but he also kept secrets from her. Something was happening in Almyra, and she wasn’t about to commit to him until she knew what it was.

“Claude?” she said. “I want to be your partner. I want you to feel like you can trust me with any secret. I would never slip up or betray you. You must know that by now.”

Claude didn’t respond. He was already asleep. Hilda sighed and listened to the strong, steady beating of his heart until she followed him into slumber.


	14. Chapter 14

Claude was living both a nightmare and a beautiful dream.

By day, he and the woman he loved dodged armies, deserters, and thieves. They’d bloodied their weapons more than once. The passage of every mile was spent in tense silence. He was almost starting to wish he hadn’t given Failnaught away.

But the nights…oh, the nights. Hilda was strong and flexible and, most importantly, a bit kinky. It was more than he could have ever hoped for.

There was only one thing wrong—their relationship was slowly becoming purely physical. Running and hiding during the day wasn’t conducive to conversation, and the game consumed whatever time in camp they didn’t spend eating or sleeping. She got better every time, and he liked to think he was also improving. He’d always enjoyed talking to Hilda and found he missed it. It also felt like a chasm was developing between them, and he wasn’t sure how to cross it.

Maybe it was because he was being too damn fearful and masking it with strategy. So much for being a master tactician.

They were close to House Goneril territory. Two days, maybe, and then they’d be safe. Goneril was out of the way of the Empire’s marching route, and Edelgard wouldn’t want to mess with Fódlan’s best defense against invading Almyrans. It would be stupid to weaken the border when Fódlan was in chaos.

Claude wasn’t sure he could afford to wait that long, not if he wanted to keep Hilda.

They made camp just before night fell. He cooked a simple stew for dinner and handed Hilda her portion. Claude ate just enough to take the edge off his hunger. He took a deep breath and put his bowl aside. As much as he hated throwing the game, losing Hilda would be worse. Time to face his fears.

“I have three older half-siblings,” he said. “Two brothers and one sister. My father married his first wife when he was very young, in an arranged marriage. She died, and three years later, he met my mother. They fell in love and eloped, as you know. It was a shock to my father’s family, but my mother soon won them over. When I was born…well, it didn’t go over so well. My siblings saw me as a threat to their inheritance, plus I was only half Almyran. Let’s just say they weren’t kind with their words or fists.”

Hilda stared at him, her spoon drooping in her fingers.

“My mixed heritage didn’t go over well with most people, in fact. They were either openly hostile or pretended I didn’t exist. My mother tended to try to solve the problem with violence. I learned pretty quickly that wasn’t the way to create lasting change.”

“Oh, Claude.”

“Then, when it turned out House Riegan needed an heir, I ran away to Fódlan. I held higher rank in the Alliance, but I got the same treatment as in Almyra. I’m an outsider no matter where I go. That’s why I have to change things. If we all just see each other as people, there won’t be any in-between where people have to struggle.”

Hilda put her bowl aside and took his hand. “That sounds painful. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.” He drew her into his arms. “You, at least, never treated me differently. You’re an equal-opportunity manipulator.”

“Excuse me?”

Claude chuckled and rested his chin on the top of her head. “There was no judgement attached to my comment. You’re observant, intelligent, and charming, which is why you’re able to successfully manipulate people”

“Takes one to know one.”

“We’ve established that. When I return to Almyra, I plan to prove to my father that I deserve to be his heir. I’m going to need a smart, canny person by my side to help me build bridges. If that person is from a different background, so much the better to conquer prejudice.”

“I see.”

“Plus, if the sister of Almyra’s most feared opponent consents to spend her life with the enemy, so to speak, it sets an excellent example.”

Hilda sat back and looked up at him, a calculating expression on her face. Damn it, this was why he hadn’t wanted to take the risk and reveal anything before they were married. She hated effort, and being his wife would require a lot of effort. Her help during the war was one thing—it was a matter of life or death—but he doubted she’d want to return to that level of responsibility.

“Your family must be pretty important for my heritage to make a difference,” she said.

There was no way Claude could lie if he wanted this to work, and it was over if he told the whole truth now. “I suppose you could say I’m from the Almyran equivalent of nobility. Does that scare you?”

“I’d rather be free to do what I want. I don’t like having to live up to expectations.”

And that was the crux of it. It wouldn’t work unless it was something she wanted. The last few days had taught him that.

“So, we’re back to my original question.” Claude’s chest tightened. It was suddenly hard to breathe. “Is it me or is it marriage that you don’t like?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious I like you just fine. But I can’t agree to marry you yet.”

Her words struck him like an arrow. He’d misread the situation badly. The way she defended him, the passion in her touch—it was a mix of duty and friendship and attraction, nothing more. It left him with only one card to play.

“Hilda,” he said, “I—”

She put her finger on his lips. “You know how things work in Fódlan. As a noblewoman, I don’t get to choose my future unless my family lets me. I understand why your mother eloped. But if _I_ ran away with you, my brother would come after us. It might mean war, and I’m sick of war.”

“Then what about our game?” The ache in his chest only intensified. Surely, she couldn’t feel nothing. The look in her eyes was one of sadness and longing, not detachment.

“It’s only a game, Claude. You were never going to win anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

Hilda put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him in for a kiss. Her mouth was somehow soft and firm at the same time, both yielding and commanding. He had no idea how she did it.

“If I ask your family and they say yes?” he murmured around the kiss.

“Then I’ll go to Almyra with you. And if I like it there, we can talk about marriage. In the meantime, I intend to win a wager.”

“Bold words. Let’s see if you can back them up.”

Hilda kissed him deeply, and soon he was lost in the taste and feel of her. She took his hand and led him to their tent. Once inside, she slipped out of her clothes and slowly undressed him, her mouth trailing all over his body. Then she tied his wrists to a tentpole.

Twenty minutes later, the tent collapsed on them as Claude moaned her name.


	15. Chapter 15

As Claude feared, Hilda was smug about winning the game. She also spent every night trying to outdo her performance the evening before. He was exhausted by the time they rode up to House Goneril but regretted none of it. Hilda beamed at him from atop her horse, almost bouncing in the saddle.

They were right on time, which would hopefully endear him to Holst. A figure standing at the end of the long drive came into view. Hilda dug her heels into her horse’s sides and sped forward.

Claude continued at a more sedate pace, still leading the pack animals. Travelworn and unbathed wasn’t how he wanted to greet his potential in-laws. Oh well, nothing to be done about it now. He debated taking off his headwrap, but no. If they were going to be family, they needed to accept his heritage.

A handsome, burly man plucked Hilda from her horse and twirled her around as if she weighed no more than a feather. His coloring was the same as hers, his pink hair cropped short on the sides and a bit long on top. It had to be Holst. He beamed up at Hilda as Claude dismounted and handed the horses off to a waiting groom.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Holst asked when he put his sister down. He had a deep, booming voice, the sort that commanded attention.

Hilda smoothed the front of her long, dirt-stained coat. “It’s a disguise.”

“An Almyran disguise? Seems risky.”

“Less risky than being an Alliance member crossing Empire lines. But enough of that, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Hilda took Claude’s hand and led him over. “This is Claude von Riegan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Claude bowed. “I’ve only ever worked with your father at council meetings.”

Holst bowed in return, but his expression grew shuttered. “So, you’re Riegan? My father speaks highly of you. Said you were the leader the Alliance needed. Although he also said you’ve abdicated in favor of Blaiddyd.”

Ouch. “That’s true.”

“You don’t thirst for power, then.”

Claude glanced at Hilda. She wore a slight frown.

“Not for power’s sake, no.”

Holst’s eyes—so like his sister’s—took on a dangerous glint. “But you must have something to fall back on. A man doesn’t give up a position like that unless there’s something better on the horizon.”

Hilda looked back and forth between them, eyebrow raised and mouth tight.

“You’re not wrong,” Claude said. “I came here to ask your family’s permission to take your sister on a little trip and see if I can convince her to marry me.”

Holst tensed. Claude recognized the signs from when his siblings used to beat him and dodged before Holst even threw his punch. Hilda cried out, but still Holst advanced. Claude narrowly avoided another two punches and three kicks. For all his bulk, Holst was fast.

“I said _stop_ ,” Hilda said, stepping between them. She grabbed Holst’s fist and stopped it cold.

Claude stared. Either Holst was pulling his punches—and it certainly didn’t seem like it—or Hilda was even stronger than he’d thought. What a woman. Thank goodness she was on his side.

“Hmm.” Holst withdrew and looked Claude up and down, posture relaxed as if he’d never attacked in the first place. “Nice dodging. But can you fight?”

Hilda balled her hands into fists and scowled at her brother. “Holst!”

“Did I hurt you?” Holst’s attention snapped to Hilda, his expression a mask of concern. Claude resisted the temptation to sneak away.

“My hand’s numb now.” Hilda pouted. “Stop threatening Claude.”

Holst examined her hand then patted her head. “I’m sorry, sugar. What sort of big brother would I be if I didn’t make sure he was worthy of you?”

Hilda made a strangled sound and rolled her eyes.

“As for you.” Holst returned his attention to Claude. It was like being on the receiving end of a Thoron spell. “We duel tomorrow.”

“Holst!” Hilda stamped her foot.

Holst grinned and clapped Claude on the back. “But that’s tomorrow. Tonight, we feast! We need to welcome back my little sister properly. Take some time to get cleaned up and relax. Claude, make yourself at home. I’ll have a footman show you to your room.”

“Thanks.” Claude’s back stung where Holst had slapped him. It might even leave a bruise. “I do enjoy a good feast.”

Holst took Hilda’s arm and led her inside. Hilda threw Claude an apologetic glance over her shoulder. Claude shrugged and followed them into the entryway, where a servant escorted him to a well-appointed room. The walls were painted white and hung with brightly colored tapestries. Wide windows and pastel yellow curtains lent the room an airy feel. The furniture was polished to a high sheen and included two chairs, a small table, a chest of drawers, and a nightstand, along with a commode with a wash basin and pitcher. The large bed sported a yellow and green coverlet and crisp white sheets. A vase of fresh flowers graced the top of the chest of drawers. The room smelled vaguely of primrose.

Claude accepted the knee-length tunic the servant handed him and changed behind a screen. His packs were already stashed in a corner, and he gladly rummaged through them and handed off all his laundry. The servant showed him to a bathing chamber and departed. The water in the tub—made of beaten copper, heavy and expensive—was the perfect temperature. Claude sank into it with a sigh and soaked for a bit before washing up.

He trimmed his beard—Hilda said she liked it, so he didn’t shave it off—took a nap, and woke in time to dress for dinner. It felt odd to remove the cheap wedding band from his finger. The ring no longer seemed fake. The skin beneath was already lighter than the rest of his hand from the time they’d spent travelling. He hesitated a moment then slipped the ring back onto his finger. Strange, to be so sentimental about an object that was never supposed to mean anything in the first place.

A servant appeared to escort him to the grand dining room. Holst was already seated at the long table, as was an older couple that was unmistakably his parents. The servant led Claude to the chair across from a stately woman who could only be Hilda’s mother.

Claude bowed. “Good to see you again, Lord Hagan. Pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady. I’m Claude von Riegan.”

Hilda’s mother introduced herself as Eloria, and they made small talk as servants brought out the food. There was roast pheasant and gratin and tiny meat pies, along with assorted other vegetable dishes. Claude adored lavish feasts. The food appeared rich, but the quantity was such there wouldn’t be much waste. Interesting. He’d never given much thought to such things until he’d heard Cyril relate his experiences as an orphan. When he became king, he’d have to take such things into account.

“There you are,” Hilda’s father said, and Claude turned toward the door.

Hilda glided into the room, her gown rippling around her in the breeze created by her passage. The petal pink fabric, just a shade darker than her hair, hugged her bodice and flowed around her legs. A gauzy overskirt in yellow was open in the front but fluttered behind her. The lack of straps exposed her shoulders and décolletage. More sheer fabric, this time in pink, flowed down her arms in detached sleeves.

Claude’s breath hitched. He stood and went to her before he quite knew what he was doing. She smiled at him as she placed her hand in his. The fake wedding band still graced her finger, and his heart lurched.

“You look stunning,” Claude murmured against her knuckles as he kissed her hand.

Hilda’s smile broadened. “You clean up nicely, too, although I’ve never been a fan of all that quilting on your outfit.”

“You’ll like the Almyran style better, I promise.”

Holst cleared his throat. “ _If_ you win, and _if_ I let her go to Almyra. They’re not exactly friends of Fódlan.”

“Maybe not yet,” Claude said with a smile. “I have reason to believe they could be.”

“Mama, Papa, you’ll let me go, won’t you?” Hilda said as Claude seated her on his left, next to Holst.

“Holst’s the next head of the house, dear,” her father said.

Holst grunted and gave an emphatic nod.

“I’m going to go regardless,” Hilda grumbled.

Claude’s heart rate sped up, and he squeezed her hand under the table.

Dinner passed pleasantly. The food was good and the company engaging. Holst was a more energetic version of his father, strict and tender in turn. It was clear his parents put a tremendous amount of responsibility on his shoulders. No wonder Hilda was wary of high expectations. They’d also raised her like a princess—so many of her habits and mannerisms made more sense now.

When dinner was over, Holst clapped Claude on the shoulder. “Why don’t you come enjoy a nightcap before I beat you into the ground tomorrow?”

“At least let him say goodnight.” Hilda grabbed Claude’s arm. “Walk me to my room?”

Claude bowed to the Gonerils and allowed Hilda to lead him through the corridors. The layout of the manor was straightforward and easy to commit to memory. Hilda’s room was in the wing opposite his own.

“I like your family,” Claude said when they arrived at her door. “They seem nice. Of course, what really endears them to me is the fact they adore you.”

Hilda sighed. “Too much, sometimes. I love Holst, but I already can’t wait to put some distance between us.”

“I’ll whisk you away soon.” Claude leaned down and kissed her. She still tasted like the strawberries from dessert.

Hilda stroked his cheek, drawing her hand down to the center of his chest. “Be careful with Holst.” She sighed. “It’s going to be strange not to sleep beside you.”

“Aww, are you going to miss me?”

“Of course.” Hilda looked up at him through her eyelashes and blushed.

A warm, fizzing sensation flooded Claude’s chest. “I’ll miss you, too.”

He kissed her one last time and made his way back to her family. There was no way he was going to lose to Holst tomorrow. But just in case….

Hilda was going to see him again sooner than she anticipated.


	16. Chapter 16

Hilda awoke with a start, sweat breaking out along her hairline. A small noise had roused her. There it was again—a rattle at the window.

She didn’t dare light a candle. For the first time, she wished she had weapons stashed in her room. When would she ever need such a thing? No one would dare attack House Goneril. Holst was a terror on the battlefield, and although her father was getting on in years, he was still a fearsome warrior.

Her fists would hopefully be up to the task. Blood rushed in her ears as she threw open the curtains, ready to attack. A dark silhouette appeared on the other side of the window, hanging upside down. All it would take was a well-thrown chair. The glass would shatter, and the attacker would—

“Hilda,” the shadow said. “Open up. It’s me.”

Hilda stared. Claude. Of course. No one else was crazy enough.

She undid the latch and opened the window. Claude ducked inside, shirtless and barefoot, and landed silently on the floor. A rope encircled his waist, and a small bag was fastened to the rope. She glanced out the window. The other end of the rope appeared to be tied to something on the roof.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered. “If Holst finds you, he’ll kill you!”

Claude put his hands on her waist and pulled her near. “Does your brother often check on you at night? Because that’s creepy.”

“Yuck, no! But he might if he heard something. His room’s only two doors down.”

“That’s why I didn’t use the corridor.”

Hilda sighed. Claude’s hands were warm and strong. Her gauzy nightgown didn’t pose much of a barrier between them.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I couldn’t sleep without you.”

Hilda slid her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I missed you, too.”

“If I lose tomorrow, will you still consider marrying me?”

“This is the first time you’re actually asking instead of suggesting.”

“I would have proposed already if I thought you’d say yes. I had it all planned before we left Derdriu. I can go get the ring right now if you—”

Hilda quieted him with a kiss. “You’d better win.”

“There’s no way I can possibly lose.”

Claude swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. It was more like staggering—she knew she was heavier than she looked, but honestly. Fortunately, it was only a short distance, and his legs were strong. He set her down, dropped the bag and his trousers, and fell upon her. They tangled on top of the sheets, kissing and caressing each other. His hands worked their way underneath her nightgown. She shivered at his touch.

Hilda rolled away from him to take off her clothes. By the time she tossed her nightgown on the floor, Claude sat on the bed, taking things out of the bag. He produced a small jar, a sash, and two feathers.

“What are those for?” she asked as she came up behind him and ran her hands over his strong shoulders and chest.

Claude leaned back against her and looked up into her face with a mischievous grin. “Revenge.”

Hilda gasped as he wound the sash around her wrists and knotted it. He repositioned her in the middle of the bed and tied the other end of the sash to the finial in the center of her headboard. The sash’s knot was tight enough she couldn’t easily break free, but not so tight she didn’t have the option if she really needed to. The finial appeared sturdy, fortunately.

“Where did you get those?” she asked as he picked up the feathers.

“Stole a quill from your family’s drawing room.” He drew the stiff feather from her sternum to her navel. The softer feather brushed her stomach. “Took this from my pillow. Don’t worry, I sewed it up again.”

“Thief.”

“Someday I’ll steal your heart.”

Hilda’s ears filled with the thrumming of her pulse as he ran the feathers over her skin. Goosebumps broke out all over her, and Claude chuckled. Light from the full moon poured through her window and cast shadows on his beautiful body as he leaned over her.

Just when the tingles started to change to tickles, Claude put the feathers aside and reached for the jar. The scent of honey wafted toward her as he opened the lid.

“You stole from the kitchen, too?” she asked.

Claude shrugged, dipped his finger in the jar, and licked the honey off it. Watching his mouth and tongue only made the fire low in Hilda’s belly burn hotter.

“Want a taste?” Claude purred.

Hilda nodded, and he kissed her. The sweetness of honey spread through her mouth. A whimper left her when he withdrew, and the sash drew taut. Part of her was tempted to break free and pounce on him, but the rest of her was enjoying the game. It was only fair after what she’d done to him in the tent. He’d been singing her name like a canary, and she had loved every minute of it.

Claude drizzled a thin line of honey over Hilda’s skin. She moaned as he licked and sucked.

“Still not as sweet as you,” he murmured against her skin.

Hilda wanted to reply, but his tongue was too much. It felt different from his usual ministrations. She writhed and pulled against her bonds.

“Say my name,” Claude said and kissed the inside of her thigh.

Hilda pulled on the sash. The headboard made an ominous sound. “No.”

“Keep your voice down,” he said. “Wouldn’t want your brother rushing in.”

“Please,” Hilda panted.

“Say it.”

“Please, Claude.”

Claude groaned. “That was way more arousing than I expected.”

Hilda barely heard him. All her attention focused on the point where their bodies touched. The part of Hilda’s brain that was still operating did some quick calculations. It was unlikely she’d get pregnant this time of month. Even if she did, he wouldn’t abandon her. She loved him, and she wanted to be one with him. Now. If she could just scoot down a little more….

“Ah-ah, naughty girl,” Claude said with a smile.

“Claude,” she moaned.

Claude shuddered and withdrew. His hands clamped down on her hips and pinned them so she couldn’t move. “I thought you wanted to wait,” he said, voice hoarse.

“I don’t care anymore. Make love to me.” Hilda burned, and he was the only person who could douse the flames.

“What if I lose to your brother?”

“I don’t care what happens. I’ll go with you anyway.”

Claude bent until his head rested on her chest, panting. “Are you sure?”

“You just like hearing me beg.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Still he made no move, only stared down at her, chest heaving. Sweat trickled down his temple in the moonlight.

“Claude.” She pulled on her bonds again. Her body was aflame, her mind fuzzy with need.

“All right.”

They gasped in unison as their bodies joined. It hurt, and she winced. He stopped and looked down at her, his hands smoothing her hair away from her face.

“Let me know when it feels good,” he said as he began to move.

Hilda swallowed and gripped him tighter. There was no space between them now. They were as close as two people could get. The pleasure flowing through her was more than just physical.

He grunted and went faster, and it was too much for her. Her muscles tightened until she shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. By the time she finally calmed, her body felt like jelly.

“I’ve never…that was….” Claude’s words turned into a strangled moan as he started moving again. Hilda went to pull against her bonds only to find the sash had gone slack. The finial had snapped off her headboard. Oops. Hilda extricated her hands and ran them down the corded muscles of his arms until he finally collapsed on top of her, panting. She ran her fingers through his thick hair and kissed his shoulder.

“Did I win?” he murmured into the bed.

Hilda smiled and stroked the back of his head. “I certainly got a prize.”

Claude rolled off and settled next to her. His eyes fluttered closed as he fumbled to pull her into his arms. She snuggled against him, heavy and sated.

“Kick my brother’s ass tomorrow,” Hilda said.

“Mmm.”

Claude immediately dropped off to sleep. Hilda rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. If this was a preview of the rest of her life, she couldn’t wait for it to begin.


	17. Chapter 17

Claude slipped out of Hilda’s bed and through the window before dawn. Hilda didn’t stir. Leaving was torture but losing the fight today would be worse. For his pride at the very least, if not his future.

He scaled the rope, crossed the manor’s roof, and dropped down into his own quarters. The sun had scarcely breached the horizon by the time he dressed and hurried to the training area he’d toured the night before.

Holst was already there, ready for their match. Claude wasn’t particularly tall, but Holst was shorter. Claude swallowed a curse. Superior height was a liability in grappling, which was likely why Holst had proposed it. Hilda’s brother would have no problem getting under Claude’s center of gravity.

Claude bowed as he entered the room, using the gesture to brush his hand against the secret weapon tucked in the waistband of his trousers: a single pin. The pin lay in a tiny, pointed sheath on the skin side of the fabric. The sheath might prick him, but that would only result in pain and blood. Claude had plenty of experience with sharp, annoying injuries. Should the pin itself get loose and poke him, his muscles wouldn’t obey him, as if he were drunk. If the dose was just right, that was all it would do. If the dose was wrong, his entire body would seize up, including his lungs, and he’d die.

“I know folk from Fódlan like to regard Almyrans as savages, but it seems to me that fighting for permission to take her out of the country is pretty barbaric,” Claude said as he removed his shirt.

Holst already stood barefoot and bare-chested, a scowl on his chiseled features. “That’s not what this is really about. This is to see if you’re worthy of her, if you can take care of her.”

“You _do_ know that she can bench press me, right?”

“Hilda’s in love with you. I saw the way she looked at you last night at dinner, the way she always leans toward you as if you were a lodestone.”

Heat rushed to Claude’s face. Oh, Hilda. Did she know how much he loved her, too? He should have told her.

“But I don’t know you,” Holst continued, “and I believe one of the quickest ways to judge a person’s character is to see how they behave in a fight.”

Claude cocked his head and regarded Holst. Foolish to have underestimated the man; Hilda was sharper than she let on, too. Suddenly, the pin tucked in his waistband didn’t seem like such a good idea. It proved Holst’s point all too well. So be it—Claude had only planned on using it as a last resort anyway.

“And,” Holst said, “I know who you really are.”

Claude froze.

“Tiana’s your mother, no?” Holst continued. “The Riegans did a good job keeping her marriage a secret, but I know more about the Almyrans than most. I know the king has a wife from Fódlan, and they had a son. A son who’s last in line for the throne, but if he’s given up what power he had in Fódlan, I wonder if he’s not angling to be first.”

Claude kept his mouth shut and clenched his hands to keep them from shaking. If Holst told Hilda, she’d never visit Almyra. Claude’s chances of any future with her would vanish.

Holst bent his knees and continued his stretching routine. “What I want to know is why you want her to be your queen.”

“I love her.”

“If what I’ve heard about you holds water, that’s not the only reason.”

“No.” The word came out strangled, and Claude cleared his throat. “But if I didn’t love her, the other reasons wouldn’t matter.”

“Hmm. She won’t be happy being queen, you know. Too much responsibility.”

“I think you underestimate her.”

Holst shook his head. “I adore her. But you know as well as I how she refuses to live up to her full potential. She won’t put in the work. I’ve been haranguing her for years, and it’s only effective because it’s more of a hassle to put up with me than it is to do what I want her to do.”

Claude snorted. “She saved my life and our army at Gronder, helped me keep the Alliance together, and protected me when the Adrestians tried to take Derdriu. I think she’ll do just fine.”

“Funny, what I’m hearing is she keeps cleaning up your mistakes.”

“I call it watching my back, and I watch hers.”

“You think that’s all you need to become king? Someone watching your back?”

“We’ll see, won’t we?”

“Only if you beat me,” Holst said with a grin.

Claud took a deep breath. Holst wasn’t wrong about his sister, but he didn’t know what she could do when she’d committed her heart. The trick was making her want to commit. If Claude could pull that off, she’d be a queen like no other.

“Let’s get this over with,” Claude said, settling into a wide stance. “No blows to the face.”

Holst nodded and copied Claude’s posture. “As you wish.”

Claude moved, but Holst was faster—surprisingly fast for such a bulky man. Only the instinct ingrained by years of training allowed Claude to dodge the first blow Holst aimed at his middle. Holst dropped and tried for a leg sweep as Claude backpedaled, off-balance, but Claude flipped out of the way.

“Fancy,” Holst said. “That seems in line with my impression of you.”

Claude frowned. Holst’s tone lacked judgement. In fact, his expression was an emotionless mask. He was empty, blank. It made him impossible to read. Ice crept down Claude’s spine on sharp feet.

They traded a few more strikes. Claude mostly just got out of the way. The power behind Holst’s attacks was like nothing he’d ever felt before. No wonder this man was so well-respected across the border.

Claude darted in, using his superior reach, but only landed a glancing blow. Holst smashed his fist into Claude’s gut. Claude bent his knees, wrapped his arms around Holst’s torso, and hoisted him into the air. Then he threw them both to the ground, Holst on the bottom. Bare skin smacked against stone. Holst grunted and tried to get a grip on Claude, but Claude scrambled out of the way. They regained their feet and watched each other, panting. The places where Holst’s blows had landed were starting to swell. Perhaps it was time to take a different strategy.

“You know,” Claude said between breaths, “your little sister gives great head.”

Claude braced himself for the storm of rage that was sure to come. Holst loved nothing as much as his sister.

Nothing happened.

Claude’s breath hitched, and the blood in his veins ran cold. Holst’s expression remained blank, the look in his eyes flat. It was more terrifying than if he had started to rage.

Holst darted toward Claude, who tried to spin out of the way. The punch grazed Claude’s ribs. Claude grabbed Holst’s wrist as it sailed past and attempted to put him in a joint lock, but Holst muscled his way out of it, turned, and struck Claude in the gut.

The air whooshed out of Claude as he staggered back. Shit. Holst was good. Time to take it to the mat.

He tackled Holst, planting his shoulder in his ribs, and they went down in a tangle of limbs. Claude squirmed his way out of a choke hold and went on the offensive. Holst parried another of Claude’s joint locks. They rolled around on the floor, increasingly bruised. Holst’s elbow accidentally caught Claude in the face, sending stars sailing across his vision. An arm closed around his throat from behind. Claude gritted his teeth and struggled as Holst’s legs wrapped around him and forced his body straight. The edges of Holst’s wrists dug into the sides of his neck. Black spots began to dance in front of Claude’s eyes. No matter how he tried to escape, Holst held him fast.

“What are you doing?”

Judging from the voice, Hilda had found them. Claude couldn’t see her from where he was.

“What is _wrong_ with you two?” she cried.

Holst’s hold left one of Claude’s hands free. He had barely enough freedom to reach into the waistband of his trousers and retrieve the pin. It slid free from its sheath, and Claude groped for Holst’s neck as everything went black. Holst jerked as the pin pierced him.

Claude collapsed to the floor, head swimming, as Holst finally released him. The blood rushed back to Claude’s brain. Holst’s movements grew sluggish, but the man didn’t fall. Damn it, he was like an ox or a bear or some other animal too strong to realize when it had been beaten.

“You sneaky bastard,” Holst slurred. “That was a dirty trick.”

“You thought I was going to lose?”

Claude’s vision began to clear, and he picked himself off the floor. The poison finally overcame Holst. He crumpled to the ground, lying on his back. His eyes remained clear, and a bitter smile twisted his lips.

“I did win, right?” Claude gasped. It was still hard to draw breath.

“I sure as shit can’t fight anymore, can I?” Holst replied.

“Are you two idiots?” Hilda cut in. She put Claude’s arm around her shoulders and let him lean on her. “Holst, what did you do to Claude?”

“Just seeing if he’s worthy of you,” Holst said.

“Ugh. Men. I can’t believe you. And look what you did to his beautiful face!”

“What’s this about my face?” Claude asked, although now the rush of battle was wearing off, his cheek and eye throbbed ominously. As did his ribs. And most of his body, actually.

Holst started laughing. “You were prepared to do anything to win, weren’t you, Claude?”

“It’d be stupid to go into a fight with an opponent who possesses superior strength and experience without a backup plan,” Claude replied.

It took another moment for Holst’s laughter to fade. Gone was the terrifying, implacable warrior. When Holst smiled again, his expression was genuinely warm.

“All right.” Holst sat up with a grunt. He was still wobbly, but he appeared to be recovering quickly. “I think I have your measure now, Claude. I’ll consider the matter of your trip.”

“Great.” Hilda rolled her eyes. “Claude, I’ll get you to bed and summon the doctor. Holst, if you ever do something like this again, I’m going to stop speaking to you forever.”

Holst frowned. “That’s harsh.”

“So is beating up Claude! I can make my own decisions, if you’d ever let me.”

Hilda stomped out of the room, quite a feat considering how much taller and heavier Claude was. She hauled him up the stairs to his room then laid him on his bed, removed his trousers, and tucked him in.

“Your brother is terrifying,” Claude said as he sank into the soft pillows.

Hilda snorted. “Tell me about it. You look terrible. I’m going to go fetch the doctor.”

“Not just yet.” Claude took her hand and closed his eyes, relaxing into the bed.

Hilda sighed and lay down next to him, their fingers interlaced. It was so natural to have her beside him. Perhaps it was habit—they’d been friends long enough. The fulfillment and satisfaction he got from having her near was more than just that, though.

“I can’t believe you fought Holst,” Hilda murmured. “It was stupid. But also sweet, in a misguided sort of way.”

“I’d be stupid not to guarantee a win. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?”

Her soft chuckle barely reached his ears. “Hmm. I’d say you could stand to wait on me more. So far, being with you has been a lot of work.”

“When we’re settled, I promise I’ll do my best.”

“I haven’t committed to anything yet, not until I have the full picture. And when will that be, exactly?”

“You’ll understand when we get to Almyra.”

Claude tried not to think about it too much. Hilda wasn’t as lazy as she wanted people to believe, but Holst was right—she might decide the effort of being queen outweighed the benefits. He’d proceed without her if he had to, but the prospect was lonely. Bleak, if he was honest.

Quiet fell between them again. If he wasn’t in so much pain, he would have relished this peace and closeness. These soft moments were his favorites.

“Thank you for last night,” he said. “I…it was amazing. Being so close to you, I mean. I hope you enjoyed it.”

“You’re cute when you’re awkward. Anyway, I’d say I was looking forward to a repeat tonight, but you’ve gone and wrecked yourself.”

Damn it, she was right. Oh, well. There would be opportunities. He’d better stop imagining them, otherwise he’d only be torturing himself.

“I’ll just have to get better soon, won’t I?” he said and squeezed her hand.

Hilda sighed and sat up. Worry danced in her eyes. “Rest. I’ll get the doctor.”

“Thanks.”

Hilda went to the door.

“Hilda?”

She turned.

“I’d do anything for you,” Claude said. “I mean it.”

She smiled. “Likewise.”

Then she was gone, and Claude was alone with his injuries and the anticipation of what would come once he had recovered.


	18. Chapter 18

“Walk with me?” Holst asked Hilda after dinner. He moved with a limp, but she had no pity for him—Claude was still in bed and had to take his meal there. Her lover sustained several cracked ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and an injured knee.

Hilda took her brother’s arm by way of reply. Her silence would wound him more than any sharp words.

Holst led her into the garden. The balmy evening breeze stirred her dress—another gauzy affair, this time in a blue that reminded her of Marianne—and the gravel crunched beneath her feet. A bird sang in a nearby tree. She’d rather be sharing this moment with Claude. Stupid Holst.

“Are you sleeping with him?” Holst asked.

Heat flooded Hilda’s cheeks. “Are you ever going to get married?”

“Excuse me?”

“If you’re going to ask awkward questions, I’m entitled to do the same.”

Holst sighed and patted her hand. “It’s obvious you love him, but how well do you know him?”

“I’ve known him for years. Besides, you’re the one who told me to stay by his side and protect the leader of the Alliance. This is all your fault. You practically set us up.”

Holst’s mouth flattened into a line. “From your letters when you were at the academy, I was under the impression you wanted to marry the Gloucester boy.”

“Lorenz is a dear.” Hilda shook her head. “You’d like him. He’s brave, sensitive, and utterly proper. But he’s not what I wanted.”

They stopped in the middle of the walkway, hemmed in by hedges. The summer night insects had begun to chirp. Holst rested his hands on Hilda’s shoulders and looked her in the eyes, face solemn.

“If you go with him,” Host said, “you will have to work hard and walk a very fine line. People will heap expectations upon you like never before. I know how you dislike responsibility. Are you really going to be all right with that? I don’t want to see you unhappy.”

“Claude won’t—”

“He won’t have time to always be looking after you. He’s a brilliant strategist—the fact the Alliance made it this far in the war is proof of that—but that isn’t enough. You’ll have to watch both your back and his.”

Hilda stiffened and tried to ignore the ice slowly spreading from her center into her limbs. “You’re talking like you don’t think I can do it.”

“I know you can.” Holst brushed her hair behind her shoulder, his brow furrowed. “But I’m not confident you’ll want to. That you’ll be happy if you go. You two might care for each other, but your relationship will come with strings. Marriage even more so.”

Hilda narrowed her eyes. “Do you not like Claude?”

“Actually, I like him a lot, not least because he’s willing to do anything for you. That includes making sure he could beat me even if he had to use underhanded tactics. I can respect that. I’m just not sure he’s right for you. Think about it, that’s all I’m asking.”

“You can be such a jerk,” Hilda grumbled.

Holst shrugged, took her arm again, and resumed leading her around the gardens. Silence fell over them as Hilda retreated into her thoughts. Was her brother right? Claude had grand ambitions, and he expected her to play a key part. If she failed, it would hurt him, and she didn’t want that. Ugh, this was why she always let other people do things for her. They were happy because things were done the way they wanted, and she was happy because she hadn’t disappointed anyone. The thought of failing Claude was like an arrow to the chest.

She said goodnight to her family and retreated to her room until she was certain everyone had retired. Then she slipped down the hall on silent feet into Claude’s room. The door wasn’t locked, which meant he hadn’t felt well enough to get up and lock it. Not a good sign, nor was the fact his bedside candle still burned.

He sat in bed, motionless, propped up in a sitting position to ease his cracked ribs. Hilda’s heart stopped, her breath held, until his chest rose and fell. His injuries hadn’t been all that serious, but she still worried. She tiptoed over to his bed and slid under the covers next to him.

“Claude?” she whispered.

Claude didn’t stir. Hilda leaned back on the pillows and examined his profile. His straight nose, his full lips, the way his eyebrows feathered at the corners…. He was beautiful. Perfect.

And yet it seemed like she didn’t have the whole picture. She trusted him. Sure, he was still keeping things from her, but she’d find out in time. Yet Holst’s words worried her. She wanted to experience the world outside of Fódlan, but she’d never wanted to be responsible for anything. Whatever the situation was in Almyra, it meant hard work, which meant risk. Could she do it? As much as she wanted to be with Claude, she wasn’t sure.

“Hilda?” Claude murmured, his eyes fluttering open.

She slid her hand under his shirt, careful not to touch his cracked ribs, until it rested over his heart. “I’m here.”

“I hope you’re not mad at me.”

“It was stupid to fight my brother.”

He covered her hand with his. “Grasp my hand, my heart, even my neck…”

“I won’t be strangling you anytime soon.” Hilda chuckled. “Holst did a good enough job on behalf of all the Gonerils.”

“If you wanted to grasp other parts, too…”

Hilda kissed his cheek. “Oh, I do. But I’ll wait until you’re up for it.”

“It’s up right now.”

“Silly. You need your rest.”

“Get me whole so you can break me again?”

She nuzzled his throat. “That’s the idea.”

“Gods. I can’t imagine a more perfect woman for me than you.”

Hilda blew out the candle and ran her fingers through his hair until his eyelids drooped closed. Before long, his breathing shifted into sleep. She snuggled against him. Being with him like this filled her heart to the brim. She’d go with him to Almyra and learn the truth of the situation firsthand. Then she’d make her decision.

Who knew? Perhaps she wouldn’t mind taking on a little more responsibility after all.


	19. Chapter 19

A week later, on the night of his birthday, Claude decided to show Hilda he was feeling better. To touch and taste her again was heaven, and he never wanted to return to earth. Still, the end was the best part of this particular journey. Hilda finished first, flopping onto her stomach, and he collapsed on her back a minute later. They stayed like that for a few moments, trembling and breathing hard as the sweat cooled on their bodies. Finally, he rolled to the side, spent.

Claude let out a contented sigh as Hilda pulled up the blanket and settled next to him. It was a struggle to stay conscious, but he forced himself so he could enjoy the feel of her. He loved the way her body fit his. The moment he had the thought, his mind sharpened and melancholy set in, just like it always did when he thought about how wonderful she was.

“Since it’s my birthday, I want you to be straight with me, for once,” he said. “No dissembling, no games.”

Hilda raised her head from his shoulder and looked at him, brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“Is our relationship only physical? Or, best case, friends with benefits?”

“Oh, Claude…”

“I mean it.” He hated the disappointment in her tone. “Do you have any feelings for me at all?”

“Of course I do. I think you’re wonderful.”

“That’s what you think of me, not how you feel.”

“You haven’t told me, either. Can we talk about this later? You’re spoiling the afterglow.”

“It’s my birthday, remember?”

“Oh!” Hilda sat bolt upright. “I haven’t given you your present yet.”

Claude frowned, remembering the little party Hilda and her family had thrown him earlier that evening. “You gave me that box of chocolates.”

“As if something like that would be your real present.”

Hilda slid out of bed, threw on her clothes, and tiptoed out of the room. Claude stared at the door. The sex wasn’t the present? Silly woman. All he wanted was for her to say she loved him.

The opening and closing of the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He drank in the sight of her as she shed her nightgown and slid back into bed. Her feet were cold. He didn’t care.

“Here.” Hilda handed him a small painted papier mâché box. It looked handmade.

Claude untied the ribbon holding the box shut. Inside, on a bed of muslin, nestled a golden armband. Several antler-like symbols were worked in green and black enamel around its circumference.

“Each of the antlers is…” She looked away as she trailed off.

Claude fastened the armband around his bicep. “Yeah?”

“A year I’ve…cared for you.”

Seven symbols. Seven years, including this year. The entire time they’d known each other. Tears sprang to his eyes. He blinked them away before they could fall.

“Do you like it?” Hilda asked.

“It’s beautiful. Did you make it?”

She nodded, cheeks pink.

“It must have taken you a while,” he said, brushing it with his fingertips. The craftsmanship was superb.

Hilda smiled. “I’ve had a lot of free time this past week.”

Claude’s heart swelled inside his chest, but it also ached. He wasn’t sure whether to shout or sob. Instead, he took her hand and looked her in the eyes.

“Tell me the truth. Are you in love with me?”

Hilda averted her gaze.

Claude squeezed her hand until his fingers trembled. They both still wore the fake wedding rings. That had to mean something, right?

“I can’t hold back any longer. I’m in love with you.”

“I know.” She removed her hand and turned away, arms wrapped around herself. “Would I have been willing to die for you if I wasn’t crazy about you? Pretend to be your wife? But there’s so much I still don’t know about you, and I can tell you’re afraid I’ll find out. So yes, against my better judgment, I adore you. That doesn’t mean this will work in the long run. We both have to be willing to be vulnerable.”

His heart soared when she began talking, but by the time she’d finished, it sat in his chest like a stone. He was damned either way—if he told her, she’d leave him now. If he didn’t tell her, she’d leave him later.

But any moment with her was precious, so he’d take what he could get.

Claude pulled her into his arms and tried to ignore how she wouldn’t relax. “Please, trust me. You have to see for yourself and make your own decision. It’s the only way you’ll truly understand.”

“It’s hard to trust you when you don’t trust me or my feelings for you, especially when I think I’ve proven just what lengths I’ll go to for you.” Hilda brushed the backs of her wrists over her eyes, so quickly he almost didn’t catch it. “I’ll go with you, but only because I can’t bear to be without you.”

“Hilda—”

“I think I’ll go back to my room now. You need to get your rest and mend if we’re going to take that trip. I’m glad you like the arm band.”

“No, don’t go.”

Claude reached for her, but she was too quick, and he still wasn’t fully healed. She threw on her nightdress and was gone before he could catch her. He flopped back onto the pillows, wincing. His fists clenched. Damn it. He’d go and grovel if it would do any good, but while she was sure to enjoy it, it wouldn’t change her mind. There was nothing to do but wait. If she truly loved him, if she felt about him the way he did about her, she’d come around eventually. In the meantime, she was right—he needed to focus on healing. They needed to get to Almyra and his family quickly, now more than ever. He settled into bed and tried to go to sleep.

It had been one hell of a birthday.


	20. Chapter 20

“So, this is really it,” Holst said from the door of Hilda’s room a week later.

Hilda didn’t bother looking up from where she carefully folded her best gown and put it into the bag.

“We have servants to do that sort of thing,” Holst continued.

Hilda didn’t respond. Normally, she would have asked the servants to do it. But she was going to meet Claude’s mysterious family. Although Claude had asked her to pack light, she wanted to make sure she didn’t forget anything.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Holst sighed. “It seems like things haven’t been going well between you two lately. Once you’re in Almyra, he’s the only person you’ll know.”

“I’m going,” she said. “I have to find out. Not knowing is awful.”

A sniffle escaped her before she could stop it. The sniffle turned into a sob, and she sank to her knees in front of her trunk. Holst drew near and put his arms around her. He’d always been so big and strong. As overbearing as he was, it was nice to be protected, to have someone care.

“Oh, sugar,” he said as he held her. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Hilda nodded.

Holst smoothed her hair back and rested his cheek on the crown of her head. “I know I’m hard on you sometimes, but it’s because you have so much potential. Claude sees it, too. It’s one of the reasons he loves you, I’m sure. And if you decide to get married, you have my support.”

“H-he hasn’t even p-proposed yet.”

Holst sighed and gave her a squeeze. “He strikes me as the sort of man who would want to be sure of your answer before he asked. I’d wager he hasn’t proposed yet because he doesn’t believe you want to marry him.”

“Then you approve?”

“No one’s ever going to be good enough for you.” Holst kissed the top of her head. “But he comes close.”

Hilda wiped her eyes and gave him a weak smile. Claude loved her—he’d told her so. If only he wasn’t so damn stubborn and would tell her more about his situation. The only reason she was still going was because she loved him too much to give up on them.

“I’ll be all right,” she said, although she wasn’t sure it was true. She’d only seen Claude at mealtimes since his birthday. He always wore a smile, but when he looked at her, pain danced in his eyes.

Holst stood. “It’s better you’re leaving. It might be safer in Almyra, since they’re not at war. Although, it might be over by the time you get back. Blaiddyd and Eisner just took Fort Merceus.”

The fact Holst was so confident she was coming back didn’t console her. Strange to think that Dimitri, the professor, and the others were so close again. They must have marched for Fort Merceus not long after she and Claude set off on their trek.

A pang went through her at the memory of the journey, when it was just the two of them, pretending to be married. It had felt like more than just pretending. If only she were still that close with Claude. The gap between them grew wider daily, and she had no idea how to bridge it.

Holst remained with her as she finished packing. His presence comforted her, and thankfully, he said nothing more. It was actually pleasant to be around him when he wasn’t trying to get her to live up to what he called her potential. As eager as she was to be free of her family once more, she was going to miss him. At least he was a known quantity. Who knew what Claude’s family was like? His father used to drag him behind a horse, after all. His siblings beat him and even tried to have him killed.

No wonder he held his cards close to his chest and had trouble trusting others.

Hilda closed the bag, and Holst carried it outside for her. She stopped in the entryway and stared into the drive. Five wyverns took up the space, including a white one. Almyran soldiers stood by their mounts. Claude was talking to her family. He wore his Barbarossa uniform, which always made him appear particularly dashing. The beard he’d grown during their travels only enhanced the effect.

Hilda ran past her family and Claude over to the white wyvern. “Pearl,” she cried, stroking the wyvern’s nose as it nuzzled her. “That’s a good girl.”

Claude joined her in petting Pearl. His hand brushed Hilda’s tentatively, but she was still too upset to reciprocate.

“Her name’s actually Luliwa,” he said. “I raised her from an egg. Nardel—Nader—evacuated her after Derdriu.”

“What does Luliwa mean?”

“Pearl.”

Hilda rolled her eyes.

“What?” The corner of Claude’s mouth quirked upward. “Makes it easy to remember.”

“Did someone say my name?” a deep voice said.

A large, grizzled warrior appeared from behind Pearl. Hilda had known him as Nardel, but if he was actually Nader…. Her gaze snapped to her brother. Holst appeared at ease, although concern and amusement mingled in his expression.

“Hi, Nader,” Hilda said. “I didn’t know you were friends with my brother, not after all the times you tried to kill each other.”

Claude and Nader exchanged a guilty look and simultaneously glanced at Holst.

Holst made his way over and clapped Nader on the back. “You talking about me, you salty old dog?”

“Wasn’t me, pup,” Nader said with a grin.

Pink stained Claude’s cheeks. “I might have asked these two to meet and play nice just in case things went really sideways in the war. Other than that, Nader’s been helping me make preparations for this day.”

“And he’s really not so bad for a senile old man,” Holst said, smiling.

Nader shook his head. “Don’t make me whup your ass, boy.”

“You tried and failed. Twice.”

“You call that failure? You’re the one who failed to kill me.”

“Only because you ran away.”

“Living is winning.”

The two burst into laughter. Hilda sighed. She’d never understand warriors. Trying to kill each other one moment, friends the next.

“What do you mean, really sideways?” Hilda asked Claude softly as the others continued to chat.

Claude’s jaw clenched, and he looked into the distance. “If we lost and it looked like House Goneril would be overrun, Nader and Holst agreed to secret you away to Almyra.”

“And you?”

“Oh, you know me. I’d have run away to save my skin and met you there.”

She did know him, and she knew he hadn’t planned on running in Derdriu. His sacrifice would have meant fewer Alliance citizens casualties. If she’d fallen, he’d be dead. It was one of the reasons she’d fought so hard.

All of it begged another question—according to her brother, Nader was one of Almyra’s top generals. If Claude had the authority to give him orders, what was Claude to Almyra? Pearl had another name. Nardel had another name. She wouldn’t be surprised if Claude wasn’t his real name, either. Who was this man standing beside her? If he trusted her, she’d know already.

Icy pain lanced through Hilda’s chest. True love couldn’t exist without trust. If she hadn’t earned his trust by now, it was likely she never would. This couldn’t work between them.

But she had to try.

“And what’s _your_ real name?” she asked.

Claude’s head whipped in her direction. She’d surprised him. Did he think she was stupid?

He cleared his throat and glanced at where the two warriors were talking. Hilda’s parents had come over, and Nader kissed her mother’s hand. Her mother giggled.

“Claude is what my mother would have named me if I were born in Fódlan.” Claude shifted from foot to foot. “But you’re right, I go by Khalid in Almyra.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We’re not in Almyra. Even if we were, you could still call me Claude.”

Goddess damn him, he should have told her ages ago. She was two seconds away from telling him he could go back to Almyra alone and stomping back into her house.

His gaze searched her face. “I’m losing you, aren’t I?”

For the first time in their long friendship, she saw fear in his eyes.

“I don’t know what to do.” He took her hands, gripping her almost hard enough to hurt. “If I don’t tell you, I lose you. If I tell you, I lose you. And losing you is the one thing I absolutely do not want to happen.”

Hilda swallowed. She’d wanted the truth, and that was the heart of it. He deserved the truth, too. “I don’t know if you’re scared to lose me because of the way you feel about me or because your scheme will fall apart without me.”

“I see.” He sighed. “I suppose I have no one but myself to blame for that.”

They gazed at one another. The conversation of the others washed over Hilda. Birds sang in the hedges and trees, although it was too early for most buzzing insects. The wind rattled leaves. But inside her heart, all was silent and still.

“H-have—” Claude’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Have you changed your mind about coming with me?”

“If I stay, will I ever see you again?”

Claude blinked rapidly. “You might not. But not because I wouldn’t want to come visit.”

So, he was in danger. He wanted her, that was obvious, but he also needed her. His dream was more important to him than anything else. Yet she was part of his dream, and he was part of hers.

“I’m still coming with you,” she said. “But—”

Claude grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss. His tongue slid inside her mouth as his arm wrapped around her waist and crushed her against him. The heat of him, the passion with which he kissed her, turned her knees to jelly. Hilda wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him.

When he broke away, he took her breath with him. He rested his forehead against hers, his thumb stroking her cheek. “I love you,” he said. “I want to spend my life with you, no matter what.”

“Ahem.”

They turned their heads. Everyone was staring at them. Nader finished clearing his throat, eyebrows raised. He jerked his head toward the wyverns. Hilda’s parents appeared scandalized, her mother’s mouth hanging open, and Holst wore a scowl.

“I see how it is,” Holst said. “If you don’t make an honest woman of her, I’ll come to Almyra and take your hide.”

Claud dropped to one knee and rummaged in his sash. “Give me just a sec. Hilda Valentine Goneril, will you—”

“Don’t you dare!” Hilda grabbed the front of his jacket and hauled him to his feet. “I haven’t even met your parents!”

Claude stood and shrugged at her family as if to say, “See?”

Holst sighed and shook his head.

“We should be going if we’re going to make first camp by nightfall,” Nader said.

Hilda hugged her family farewell. Claude bowed to them and thanked them for their hospitality. He clasped hands with her father and kissed her mother’s knuckles.

Claude offered Hilda his arm. “Ready for an adventure?” he asked with a rakish grin.

Hilda returned his smile. As apprehensive as she was about Claude’s situation back in Almyra, she was looking forward to traveling beyond Fódlan’s border. It would be a trip to remember even if their relationship didn’t work out.

Holst helped Hilda up on Pearl, his hand lingering on her foot. “Be careful, sugar,” he said, brow furrowed. “Maybe it’s for the best if you’re not married. That way you still belong to the Gonerils, and the Almyrans know that if they mess with my family, they’ll have me to deal with.”

A tremor ran down Hilda’s spine. Holst knew something she didn’t, and if he was taking it so seriously, it didn’t bode well. On the other hand, he’d never let her leave if it were truly dangerous.

“I promise to write,” she said and blew him a kiss.

Holst pretended to snatch the kiss out of the air and pressed it to his heart, just like he had since they were little. Her eyes suddenly burned, and she had to blink a few times to calm them.

Claude climbed up behind her and wrapped several blankets around her. It would be cold aloft. Hilda smiled at her family one last time. They waved back, Holst sniffling.

“You are my heart,” Claude murmured in her ear. “Thank you for coming with me. I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.”

He twitched the reins, and they were off.


	21. Chapter 21

Hilda flew all day safe in the circle of Claude’s arms, high over Fódlan’s Locket, across pine forests and plains. Fódlan was mostly gray and brown and green. Almyra—a place that had always seemed exotic and dangerous—was all greens and golds and blues. When Claude surveyed the land, he saw home. Would she, someday, if they made this work?

That night, they made camp in a clearing next to a stream. Everyone helped set up—even Hilda, once Claude guilted her into it. How strange to hear Almyran come from Claude’s lips as easily as her own language. Only then did she realize that he would likely be one of the few people she could actually talk to during this trip.

Nader and Claude sat her between them at the fire as they traded stories across her. One of the soldiers made dinner, distaste on in his expression as he handed it to her. She blinked at him in shock. Never before had she been on the receiving end of prejudice. She’d tried to be better about her own ignorance since the unfortunate interactions with Cyril, but the look on the soldier’s face really drove it home. Was this how Claude had lived his entire life? No wonder he wanted things to change.

She took a bite of the lentil stew and choked as unbearable heat flooded her mouth. A coughing fit seized her. Claude put his hand on her back, brow furrowed.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“May I taste your dinner?” she replied.

The soldier who’d cooked the meal smirked.

Claude’s expression changed to confusion as he fed her a bite of his stew. The spices were still strange, still strong, but nowhere near the levels of her bowl. She smiled sweetly at Claude then fixed her gaze at the cook. Her food was too spicy to eat out of spite—she didn’t want to delay them tomorrow because of wrecked intestines. But she could choke down a few more mouthfuls, so she did, making eye contact with the cook the entire time. Going to bed hungry for once in her life wouldn’t kill her.

Still, she couldn’t let it go unpunished. Claude would undoubtedly do something if she went to him, but then aggression against her would increase, especially when he wasn’t around. That would be even more work than just taking care of this herself. She sighed. Almyrans respected strength, as far as she knew. Perhaps it was time to put that knowledge to the test.

Hilda waited until everyone began to clean up. When the cook went to pack the supplies, she followed, mostly full bowl in hand. He turned, spotted her, and smirked again. She wrapped her fist in the front of his shirt. He frowned and tried to peel her off him. His eyes widened when he failed. She lifted him onto his toes then off the ground. He grabbed her wrist, snarling at her in Almyran.

“I don’t know if you can understand me,” Hilda said sweetly. “But if you ever mess with my food again, I will end you.”

She gave him a little shake with each of the last four words. By the time she put him down, the color had drained from his face, and his knees shook. She patted him on the shoulder with a smile and dropped her bowl at his feet. Then she turned on her heel and sauntered back to Claude’s side.

“What was that all about?” Claude asked as she took his arm.

“The cook seemed to think I needed my dinner extra spicy.”

Claude glanced at the dumbstruck cook. The other two soldiers looked between him and Hilda. Nader tried to hide a smile behind his hand.

“I love you,” Claude said with a grin.

Hilda couldn’t help but smile in return. “Besides strength, what else do Almyrans respect?”

“Sexual prowess.”

“Oh, really?”

There was no way of knowing if he was telling the truth, but no matter. Their tent was already set up. Hilda didn’t usually like showing off her strength, but that’s likely what these soldiers would respect. She bent and swept Claude off his feet, holding him like a bride. He raised his eyebrows. She marched him inside their tent and tossed him onto the cushions that would serve as their bed.

“I hope you’re prepared, al’Amir Khalid,” she purred as she crawled on top of him.

“What?”

“Honestly. It’s how the soldiers have been addressing you all evening.”

“You’re so sexy when you’re smart.” He pulled her down for an openmouthed kiss. “Hearing you say my Almyran name is way more arousing than I thought it’d be.”

They removed their clothes and spoke no more. Their mouths and hands communicated the way words never could. The tincture she’d been taking for the last couple of weeks would prevent pregnancy, which meant she was free to do as she liked. As Hilda straddled him, it quickly became apparent that one of the things she liked was riding him. The way he looked—his eyes squeezed shut, his head thrown back, his hands clamped on her hips—was delicious. She teased him and denied them both release until they were half-mad from desire. When they finished, it was all the sweeter for the delay.

Hilda gazed down at Claude. His hair curled against his sweaty temple, his eyes closed and body limp. So beautiful. She collapsed onto his chest with a sigh. Take that, Almyrans. Hilda Valentine Goneril always came out on top.

A soft snore came from Claude. Rats, she wouldn’t even have an opportunity to gloat. Oh well, that could come tomorrow, in the light of day.

Hilda pulled the blankets over them, curled next to Claude, and quickly fell asleep.


	22. Chapter 22

The next morning, Claude sat next to Nader beside the campfire. Dew glistened in the grass, the sun’s light pale as it rose far to the east. He suppressed a yawn. The griddle cakes and venison sausage had been filling, but the heavy food made him even more sleepy.

“So,” Nader said, glancing Hilda’s direction as he handed Claude a mug of hot tea. “Busy night last night.”

Heat rushed to Claude’s cheeks. “Were we that loud?”

“Wyverns are quieter when they mate.”

Claude glanced at where Hilda was returning their breakfast dishes. The soldiers nodded to her as she swaggered past, and she shot them all a gracious smile. Oh yeah, she was definitely gloating.

There was no other option—he’d have to be sure to pay her back tonight. Couldn’t afford to lose face, after all. Maybe he could get her to moan his Almyran name again. Just the thought of it sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine.

Nader chuckled. “You got it bad, don’t you?”

“Says the man who gets all mushy around Judith.”

“About that…after you don’t need me anymore, I’m going back to Fódlan. Going to spend some time with her. Maybe forever.”

Claude grinned. “You old dog! Good for you.”

Nader chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks red.

Claude’s chest expanded with warmth. An Almyran general leaving to be with a Fódlan general. A Fódlan noble impressing Almyran soldiers. It was happening—his dream was unfolding right before his eyes.

And it could crumble just as easily in a few more days, when Hilda met his family.

He glanced over at her. She stood with the three soldiers. Even with the language barrier, she had them smiling as she tried to help them pack. She dropped a sack, and one of the soldiers picked it up. Soon, the soldiers were doing everything themselves, yet somehow including her as if she was actually helping. Damn, she was good. It was one of the reasons she’d make an excellent queen. Everybody wanted to do things for her. Himself included, and he even knew better. She looked at him over her shoulder and winked. His heart stuttered in his chest.

“I have to admit,” Nader said, “I thought the plan was to be married by now.”

Claude’s jaw tightened. “It was. Things got complicated.”

“Thought you liked ‘em complicated.”

“Not like this. She doesn’t trust me.”

“You give her a reason to?”

Claude opened his mouth and shut it again.

“You trust her?” Nader asked, watching Hilda over the rim of his mug.

“Absolutely.”

Nader snorted. “So she knows all about your family and what you told me about your ambitions. Funny, she doesn’t act like someone who’s about to meet foreign royalty.”

“If I told her, she wouldn’t be here right now.”

Nader sighed and shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like trust to me. Listen, your dad’s not very impressed that you gave up your position in Fódlan. It looks like you were too weak to hold onto it. You have an uphill battle ahead of you, and you’ll need all the help you can get. You’re an excellent tactician—you know you have to solidify alliances before the battle, not during.”

“It’s not like that,” Claude said, frowning down at his tea.

Nader clapped Claude on the shoulder. “Maybe you’re more stubborn than I thought. One of the things that sets you apart from your brothers and sister is you actually listen to other people. Think about what I’ve said.”

The general rose and joined his soldiers. Claude sipped tea, unable to muster the will to go help. The closer they got to their destination, the greater the weight on his shoulders grew. Strange, he’d had far more responsibility in the Alliance, and yet the burden had felt different. Perhaps because his life belonged to serving others there, whereas now he had only his own future to worry about, at least for the moment. A future in which he still wasn’t sure Hilda would participate.

He drank the last of his tea just as breaking camp finished. The soldiers stashed the mug with the other dishes. Hilda waved and smiled at them, and all three soldiers returned the gesture. Claude took her arm and escorted her over to Luliwa.

“Seems like you made some friends,” he said as he helped her up.

Hilda smiled. “They’re quite nice now that they’re not trying to haze me.”

“Funny how that works. I’m glad you could find it in your heart to befriend such savages.”

Hilda whacked him on the leg as he mounted behind her. “Hush. I learned my lesson, all right?”

Claude snorted and wrapped the blankets around her. They’d need to get her proper wyvern riding attire if she was going to—oh, right. Putting the cart before the horse. He still had to get her to marry him first. The next few days would make or break them. He pushed the terror out of his heart and focused on getting Luliwa off the ground.

Fortunately, Hilda couldn’t see him brooding from where she sat, so he was free to let his thoughts take whatever turns they liked when they were in the air. On the ground, he pretended everything was fine, that worry wasn’t eating him like acid. So many things could go wrong.

When they landed for the evening and made camp, it grew apparent Hilda was nervous, too. It showed in her too-bright smile and the cadence of her voice. She studied him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking.

The entertainment at dinner was Hilda and the soldiers trying to teach each other words from their respective languages—profanities, mostly. Nader served as translator. The soldiers seemed to enjoy the dichotomy of Hilda’s proper demeanor and the vulgar phrases she knew from growing up around Goneril soldiers. Claude could relate. The unexpected facets of Hilda’s personality were his favorites.

And time might be running out to enjoy them.

If all went according to schedule, they’d arrive at his parents’ summer home tomorrow evening. There was a chance that they’d arrive without incident, but tonight was the only guaranteed night he’d have with her. He’d better make it count.

The moment dinner was over, he marched over to Hilda, slung her over his shoulder as she squealed, and carried her into their tent. The soldiers hooted and hollered. Even Nader chuckled.

“I like it when you’re forceful,” Hilda said with a smile as he laid her down on the cushions.

Claude unfastened her shirt and kissed her collarbones. “I’m going to make you say my name. The Almyran one.”

“What does al’amir mean?”

“It’s a term of respect befitting my station. But don’t think about that now. Tonight, it’s just you and me and how we feel about each other.”

By the way Hilda quieted, he knew she was thinking the same thing she was. Maybe what Nader had said was right—with all this love they had for each other, where was the faith? But what he felt for her truly was love. He had no doubts about that as he ran his hands and mouth all over her body. The way she touched and kissed him was magic, filling him with a heat and need he never could have imagined experiencing. Their fingers laced as they became one.

Hilda looked up at him, cheeks flushed and lips red. “Claude. Khalid.”

His names came off her tongue like a blessing. His heart took flight.

They clung to each other as he found a spot that made her writhe and moan. Gods, she was perfect. He worked that spot until she was screaming his Almyran name, and the heat in the core of him turned white hot. They peaked at the same time, their cries mingling, and shuddered against each other. He collapsed on top of her, their sweat mingling.

Hilda’s hands danced over his back and stroked his hair. The way she touched him…he never wanted her to stop. His eyes drooped closed as his energy drained away.

“You’re heavy,” Hilda said, startling him awake.

Claude rolled off her, keeping her in his arms, and closed his eyes again. “Sorry.”

“Claude.” Her fingers stroked his chest hair. She felt so right against him. Sleep pulled at him with velvety hands, his body warm and relaxed.

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

It was the first time she’d told him outright. His eyes opened, and he turned his head toward where she rested on his shoulder. He bundled her closer, all her soft curves and silky skin pressed the length of him. The fingers of his free hand knit with hers. Her hand was so small.

“I love you, too,” he said, voice thick. His eyes burned as he blinked back tears. He tilted her chin up and kissed her softly.

Hilda settled back against his shoulder, their fingers still laced as they rested on his chest. Her eyes closed. Soon, her breathing deepened and slowed.

Lovemaking had stolen Claude’s energy, but it took him a while to fall asleep. When he did, he dreamed—foes stalking him in the dark, memories of the beatings his siblings had visited upon him as a child, the suspicious faces of the people at the monastery. Strong hands gripped him, and he fought, only to be shaken awake.

“I’m here,” Hilda said. “You’re safe.”

Claude clung to her in the night, his cheek pressed against her chest as she stroked his hair. How much longer would he have her? He had kept so much a secret. First, it had been out of necessity, then fun, and then that fun had turned to fear.

They made love again before dawn, slowly and sweetly, and rose with the other soldiers. Today, Claude was the one on the receiving ends of the smirks and approving glances. He almost rolled his eyes. Soldiers were the same the world over, but who could blame them? Sex and drink and food were some of the things that made life worth living. Courting death as an occupation likely threw such things into even sharper relief.

They struck camp and took to the air. Hilda twisted in the saddle as they soared southward. “I love flying,” she shouted with a grin.

Instead of lifting, his heart sank.

He tried to memorize the feel of Hilda in his arms as they flew. Each time they stopped for a rest, he stayed at her side. He’d even almost followed her once when she went to relieve herself. If his clinginess bothered her, she didn’t show it.

It was just as well. He wasn’t about to hold back now. Every moment with her was precious. Tomorrow, she’d know everything. Tomorrow, he would know if they would walk life’s path together or if he would have to go alone.


	23. Chapter 23

Day faded into evening. Claude’s heart raced as they flew over the darkened earth, his palms clammy inside his gloves. Hilda squealed as small pinpricks of light appeared beneath them, scattered at first and then more concentrated. The moonlight sparkled on the ocean in the distance.

“That’s Malzha,” Claude said in Hilda’s ear. She grew still against him.

They landed outside the summer palace. Claude slid to the ground and helped Hilda down as servants swarmed them, tending to the wyverns and relieving the soldiers of their camp gear. They stared at Hilda in the lantern light. She ignored them—the palace shining white before her stole her attention. He had mixed memories of the place as a child. It was interesting to see it again through her eyes.

Claude clasped hands with Nader. “Thanks for the escort.”

“Good luck, kid. Watch yourself,” Nader responded.

Hilda curtseyed to each of the soldiers, who bowed in return, smiles all around. Claude suspected he was the only one who could detect the tension in the curve of her mouth. He put his arm around her waist and led her into the building.

“This is your family’s summer home?” Hilda gawked at the ornate ceilings and the mother of pearl inlays lining the dark wood of the walls. Their boots clicked against the marble tiles of the floor, echoing through the tall, arched windows into the summer night. And this was just the side entrance.

The palace was just as he remembered it—too much white, too much mother of pearl, too many milky blue glass tiles. He secreted her through back passageways, startling servants, until they arrived at her quarters. Best they stay in separate rooms until he understood the situation here. Making it seem like there was distance between them would keep her safer.

Hilda exclaimed over the silk bed hangings and the copious cushions. Her exuberant smile was forced, the look in her eye suspicious. “This is the fanciest room I’ve ever been in.”

Claude plastered his own false smile on his face as he went to her and put his arms around her waist, perhaps more tightly than necessary. “Wait until you see the bathing chamber.”

“I definitely need a bath. I’m a dirty girl.”

“How dirty?”

Her smile turned seductive. “ _Very_ dirty.”

“Just the way I like you.”

He bent and kissed her. She made a little noise and melted against him. Her hand gripped his rear.

“Seriously, though,” she murmured against his mouth. “I need a bath.”

Claude took her hand and led her into the adjacent bathing chamber. Hilda’s lips parted as she took in the room, eyes wide. Lanterns hung from the ceiling like stars, illuminating the room with gentle light. Glass tile mosaics in the floor mimicked the curl of ocean waves. The soaking pool was twice as wide as he was tall, deep enough Hilda’s head would barely be above water when she stood on the bottom. She’d likely have to sit on her knees on the bench. Hooks with plush towels hung next to the door, and delicate teak stools and wash basins stood off to one side over a drain. A shelf of oils and soaps and perfumes and various scrubbing implements lined the short wall of the room.

“You can leave your things in that wicker basket over there,” Claude said.

As she undressed, he went to the shelves, picked up several floating candles, lit them off one of the wall lanterns, and let them loose in the soaking pool. He threw in some dried rose petals from a nearby basket for good measure.

Claude grabbed a brush and came up behind her just as she was freeing her hair from the braided bun she wore while riding the wyvern. Its petal-pink waves cascaded past her waist, the last gasp of her perfume filling his nostrils. The strands ran between his fingers like silk. The weight, the shine—lovely beyond measure.

“Sit,” he said, directing her to a bathing stool. He knelt behind her and ran the brush through her hair. Hilda hummed low in her throat, a small smile on her lips. Every stroke of the brush was another moment they were together.

“Don’t brush it too much, you’ll pull it all out,” Hilda said.

Claude relinquished the brush, and she scrubbed herself. If his gaze lingered on her slippery body, she didn’t seem to notice. Her hips swayed as she made her way to the stairs leading into the pool. She paused at the water’s edge and turned. Maybe it was how pale her skin was, or the color of her hair, or her petite stature, but she suddenly seemed fragile. His heart lurched in his chest. Gods, let her never break. It was a miracle they’d made it this far.

“Not going to join me?” she asked.

Claude shook his head.

She shot him a questioning look then frowned. Perhaps she sensed his melancholy. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugged. So much could go sideways. He didn’t understand why she’d come with him. Well, except for the sex. If it was half as good for her as it was for him…. It was the only time his feelings reached her.

“You have enough energy to make love?” she asked, as if she’d read his thoughts. “But let’s not do it in the water. I don’t want the servants to have to clean it up.”

“Since when do you care about servants?”

“Since I got to know Cyril. Turns out he worked for my family. He felt like Rhea rescued him from us. Which she did, I guess.”

Claude snorted. “You’re just a big ol’ softie, aren’t you.”

“Tell anyone and I’ll make sure you die in horrible pain,” Hilda said sweetly as she slid into the water.

“Your secret is safe with me.” It was about all that was safe with him right now. Being here again only made him remember what it had been like to always live on edge.

Claude’s stomach roiled. His hands began to shake, and he clenched his fists. It was time. Past time, actually. He took a deep breath. “You’ll meet my family at breakfast tomorrow. They don’t know I’ve brought a guest, mainly because I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come with me. When I introduce you to my parents, you should probably address them as ‘Your Majesties.’”

Hilda stared at him, mouth hanging open.

“I wanted you to come to Almyra,” he continued, “to see what it was like, the life I can give you, before I let you in on my secret. But now that we’re here, I remember how dangerous it is, and I realize I’ve taken a terrible risk with your safety by bringing you here before I’m named heir.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hilda spoke softly and gazed at the water, which made it difficult to tell if she was heartbroken or furious. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

He looked away. “I didn’t think you’d want to be queen.”

“Excuse me? What noblewoman in their right mind wouldn’t want to be a queen?”

“I figured _you_ wouldn’t. Too much responsibility.”

Hilda scowled as she looked at him. “Because I shirked my work during war councils and did nothing to help you hold the Alliance together those last months—”

“You complained the entire time.”

“But I did it anyway! If I was willing to stand by your side then, why wouldn’t I be all right with being your queen?”

“I didn’t think…” His voice quavered, and he cleared his throat. “I wasn’t sure you thought I’d be worth the effort.”

The anger drained from Hilda’s expression. The sadness that replaced it was worse. Yet it was the love in her eyes that hurt the most.

“Oh, Claude.” She emerged from the pool and threw her arms around him. “I love you more than I can ever express. I’ll stand by your side, no matter what. Why can’t you believe that?”

He returned her embrace, heedless of how she soaked his clothes, and tried to blink away the burning in his eyes. “The way I was raised, I had to do everything on my own. It was supposed to make me strong. And I wanted you to _want_ to become queen. On your own. Without me influencing you.”

“I would prefer to avoid work.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “But you make me want to at least try.”

Claude buried his face against her wet skin. “So, you’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m furious. You should have never kept it from me. But I’m not completely surprised. You’re not as subtle or as sneaky as you think.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She was taking this better than expected, but he’d always underestimated her. His insides refused to unclench. Sharp, cold fingers gripped his heart at the thought of asking his next question, but he had to know.

“You are my heart, my life,” he whispered. “Will you stay with me? May I introduce you to my parents tomorrow?”

She kissed him again, more fiercely. “Yes. But only because you told me instead of making me find out on my own.”

They held each other for a long moment, lost in their embrace. When she finally released him, she took his doubts with her. He’d never loved her more.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said.

She shot him a grin over her shoulder as she returned to the pool. “I know. I’m sure a prince will have the resources to make it up to me, though. That’s the last of your secrets, right?”

Hilda would watch his back, but this time he was the one who needed to protect her. Almyra wasn’t a safe place for a Fódlan noble. Any association with him would only increase the danger she was in.

“Actually, there’s something else I need to tell you.”

Hilda sighed and leaned against the side of the pool. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Now that we’re here, I agree with your brother that it’s safer for you to be a Goneril instead of my intended. We should act as if we’re only friends, at least until I know what’s going on with the rest of my family. Once I’m certain you’re not in danger, we can go back to the way things were.”

“Hmm.”

“There’s a reason I learned to sleep with a dagger under my pillow. I’d rather not expose you to that right away.”

Hilda raised an eyebrow, obviously skeptical, even though nothing he said was a lie. “Do you not recall seeing me fight?”

“I’m serious. I need to make sure we both live long enough to take the throne.”

Her expression sobered.

“Hilda. Please.”

“All right,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll play whatever part you need me to play. I’m just disappointed we don’t get to share a room.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’re getting pretty deep in debt with the ol’ favors.”

He took another breath. His nerves were fried. His entire body buzzed as if he’d just done battle. At least the outcome was the one he’d hoped for.

“One last thing,” he said.

Hilda groaned.

“I’m going to need that bracelet back.”

Her eyes glinted. “I knew it was special.”

“It was my grandmother’s. If anyone sees you wearing it, they’ll know what you are to me. You’ll become even more of a target.”

Hilda slipped the bangle off with a frown, and she took off the fake wedding ring for good measure. Claude removed his own bracelet and ring and put them all in his pocket. He knelt by the edge of the pool and took her hand.

“I’m so sorry.” He kissed her knuckles. “This isn’t fair. I’ll assess the situation, and as soon as it’s safe, I’ll give these back to you and then some, if you’re still willing to be my queen.”

The impish smile she shot him warmed his heart, even though she couldn’t hide the flash of pain in her eyes. “You _so_ owe me. When you ask me to marry you, you’d better give me a ring for every finger.”

“And ten rings every year thereafter on our anniversary. I swear it.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Their hands remained clasped as they gazed into each other’s eyes. The moment stretched, too long and too short all at once. He never wanted to leave her side, but he must.

“You really will be safer this way.” He kissed her one last time. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’ll miss you.” Her exaggerated pout didn’t quite manage to mask her sadness. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Claude left. One of the soldiers who’d accompanied them on the trip from Goneril stood outside her door. Good—at least one person would look out for Hilda. He gave the man instructions and returned to his own quarters, mind churning.

His rooms were just the way he remembered them. Entering was like getting grabbed by the throat. All the old memories poured back, some happy, many not. Where Hilda had marveled at the rich silks and decorations, all Claude saw was a boy huddled in the center of the massive bed, aching with bruises and face streaked with hot, angry tears. He shoved the memory aside and instead thought of Hilda. How strange to have his past and present collide. He was not the same child who’d spent summers in this palace.

It was time to introduce his family to the man he had become.


	24. Chapter 24

Hilda had a difficult time sleeping. The mattress was comfortable and the sheets divine, but it wasn’t easy to fall asleep in a new place, especially without Claude by her side. Her emotional state didn’t help. As relieved as she was to finally know his secrets, his fear was palpable—and contagious. When a knock came at her door, she could have sworn she had just fallen asleep. Yet morning light shone through the intricately carved window screens.

The knocking started again. Hilda managed to sit up just as the door opened. Three women entered, bowed at the waist. Two of them sneaked glances at her, distaste writ plain on their faces. The oldest of them, a gray-haired, wrinkled woman, raised her head.

“Good morning,” Hilda said. “Can I help you?”

They stared at her blankly. Damn it, she really needed to learn Almyran. The older gestured to the younger ones. Only then did Hilda notice the silks in their arms. As the two hurried to lay out their burden, the old one beckoned Hilda from bed and gestured for her to remove her nightshirt.

“What?” Hilda said with a gasp, clutching the garment to her more tightly.

The old woman sighed and shook her head then pantomimed getting dressed.

Hilda disrobed, cheeks burning. The maids didn’t give her a second glance. The old woman gave rapid instructions to the other two, and soon the young women began to dress her.

While the two draped her in silks and ornaments, the old woman started in on her hair, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. Soon all three were engaged creating braids from her long, pink strands. They draped and coiled the braids around her head, fastening them with golden, jeweled clasps.

All three women smiled as they herded her over to a full-length mirror. Hilda wasn’t sure how to describe the gown she wore. The wine-dark and light pink silks complemented her coloring. The fabric fastened to a golden collar, covered the front of her breasts, and tied in the back before flowing behind her like a train. She wasn’t shy about showing cleavage, but even this seemed a bit much. A sash wrapped her midriff, accentuating her small waist, and the skirts were slit to halfway up her thigh. Delicate gold chains with dangling ornaments encircled her hips, matching the golden embroidery along the edges of the silk. Her elaborate hairstyle was almost like a crown, what with its ornaments. She looked like an exotic queen.

A queen. Her eyes widened in the mirror. Leave it to Claude to send a message.

The maids bowed and began to depart. Hilda stopped them with a hand. “Thank you.”

They looked at her blankly, so she gave them a little bow. The old woman bobbed her head with a tiny smile, and the other two followed suit. They left as suddenly as they had come, and Hilda was alone.

Time for some extra primping. Hilda never wore much makeup, and she had plenty of confidence, but she might as well put forth the extra effort to look her best. Her hands trembled as she applied her cosmetics. This was it. The moment when she’d finally meet Claude’s family.

She almost missed the knock at the door due to the thunder of her own heartbeat.

“Hilda?”

Her heart leapt at the sound of Claude’s voice. She hurried to the door. At least the silk slippers were easy to move in.

Claude stood on the other side when she flung open the door. He wore a long sleeveless tunic made of fine, creamy linen, secured at the waist by his usual green, black, and gold sash. Gold embroidery around the high, straight collar and the shoulders glinted in the light. His trousers—a slightly darker shade of linen—ballooned out before fastening at the ankle. They weren’t too dissimilar from what he’d worn as a student. Embroidered slippers with a slightly pointed toe finished the look. The only embellishments were a golden silk half-cape hanging from one shoulder and his earring. Her chest constricted at his beauty.

“You…you look amazing,” he said, but his expression and body language were distracted.

Something was wrong. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

It was true. The cut of the tunic showed off the inverted V of his shoulders to waist. The trousers didn’t do much for his legs, but a girl couldn’t have everything.

“Thanks.” Claude’s voice, his eyes, his expression—all were utterly flat. “Shall we?”

Instead of offering her his arm, he walked a step ahead of her, leading the way. What was going on? Hilda’s stomach decided now would be a good time to crawl up her throat. She had to remember to take deep breaths as they left the room.

Other than the jingling of Hilda’s gold ornaments, they walked in silence. Every person they passed stared. Few of the looks were curious, and most were openly hostile. Claude kept his gaze straight ahead. Heat blossomed in Hilda’s cheeks. It felt like she was going to an execution. Maybe even her own.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

Claude stopped, his gaze boring into her. “An assassin came to my room last night. Obviously, they failed.”

Hilda covered her mouth with her hand. “Are you all right?”

“Listen to me.” Claude took her hand and resumed walking, his voice soft and urgent. “We don’t have much time, so I can’t afford to repeat myself. You mean the world to me, and I have to keep you safe. The situation is worse than I thought when we spoke last night. Even appearing as friends is dangerous. If you don’t have personal ties to me, the Goneril name will protect you. So as of right now, you’re an ambassador from Fódlan ready to start negotiating in anticipation of Dimitri’s victory. Between your perceived ties to Dimitri and your actual ties to your brother, no one should dare lay a hand on you.”

Hilda blinked. “But I can—”

“If they don’t kill you outright, they’ll use you against me. And it would work. This is why I never had friends before you.”

Hilda’s mouth moved, but nothing came out. No friends? And he’d said he couldn’t depend on his family to protect him. Her chest suddenly hurt.

Claude caught her gaze and held it. “We have to put some distance between us, do you understand? I hate it, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. No matter what happens, I need you to trust me. I love you. That won’t change. You are my life. Remember that.”

They stopped in front of a set of doors inlaid with brass. The guards looked Claude up and down. He said something in Almyran, and they opened the doors and ushered them through.

The room before them was opulent but intimate. Three low tables stood in a U shape in the center of the room, surrounded by cushions. Plush rugs covered the polished marble floor, and painted tiles spread halfway up the wall to meet intricately carved stone. Elaborate wooden window screens and a pointed-archway door opened onto a lush garden. A fountain supported by carved wyverns stood in the middle, water burbling from is center. The scent of mint and verbena wafted into the room.

A woman with dark hair and jewel-green eyes that matched Claude’s stood from her place at one of the tables and rushed forward. “Khalid!”

She put her hands on his shoulders and looked up into his face, eyes sparkling, as she spoke to him in Almyran. His expression softened, and he pulled her into a hug. Hilda stood to one side, hands folded in front of her, trying her best to look empty headed. An older man, two younger men, and a young woman occupied the tables. The older man watched Claude, a small smile on his face, but the others stared at Hilda.

“And who’s this?” the older woman said in Fódlish, looking at Hilda.

Claude inclined his head toward Hilda, keeping his distance. “This is Hilda Valentine Goneril, ambassador from Fódlan.”

Hilda dropped into a curtsy, head bowed. Nothing about this situation boded well. Fortunately, she was an excellent actress. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Goneril? You any relation to Holst Goneril?” The older man raised an eyebrow. His accent when he spoke Fódlish was almost nonexistent.

Hilda held her curtsy. “He’s my elder brother, Your Majesty.”

“Fine manners from a Fódlan dog,” the older of the two young men grumbled under his breath.

“I heard that,” Claude said. “Don’t forget, you also insult the woman who raised you.”

Claude’s mother watched Hilda carefully, but Hilda kept her expression open and friendly.

Claude sighed. “Hilda, allow me to introduce you to my parents, King Kadir and Queen Tiana.”

Hilda bowed her head and curtseyed until her knees brushed the ground.

“And these are my esteemed siblings.” Claude’s voice had taken on its usual lazy cadence. “The big, burly one over there is Bakur. That’s Ehfaz, and that’s my sister Dafiya.”

“Charmed.” Hilda curtseyed again, not as deeply, and glanced at them through her eyelashes. All three siblings took a peek at her cleavage.

“Welcome, Hilda.” Claude’s mother took Hilda’s hands. Weapon calluses lined Tiana’s palms. “Please, make yourself at home.”

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” Hilda said as Claude led her to a table and seated her next to him. She tried to catch his eye and failed.

“Not at all,” Kadir said as Tiana returned to his side. His eyes might not be the same color as Claude’s, but they held the same twinkle. “Children, continue to speak Fódlish in honor of our guest. I have to admit, I never expected a scion of one of our dearest enemies to visit our fair country.”

Hilda smiled. “My brother has the utmost respect for Almyrans and urged me to come see it for myself. As you may have heard, things are changing in Fódlan, and I hope my experience here may be of some use to the new king.”

“I’ve heard he hasn’t won yet,” Dafiya said, her accent thick. She was short and stocky, a spring about to uncoil, and she glared at Hilda as she spoke.

Claude shot her a lazy grin. “It’s just a matter of time.”

Ehfaz, the handsome middle brother, chuckled. Unlike the other men in the room, he wore his thick, wavy hair in a ponytail and was clean shaven. Wire-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose. “Is that why you discarded your Riegan inheritance so easily? Hardly behavior befitting someone of your lineage.”

“Ehfaz is the scholar of the family,” Claude said to Hilda, as if that explained everything. “But he doesn’t understand a thing about Fódlan.”

Ehfaz’s physique was as sculpted as anything Hilda had ever seen. Between him and Claude, it appeared Almyra liked its scholars as fit as warriors.

“I’d be happy to help you gain perspective,” Hilda said.

Claude shot her a look, and Ehfaz raised his eyebrow, gaze calculating.

“Behave yourselves, children,” Tiana said, her voice quiet but sharper than any knife. “We haven’t seen Khalid in years, and we have also a surprise guest.”

Claude’s siblings closed their mouths as one. A shiver ran down Hilda’s spine.

Kadir shook his head, the tassels of his head wrap swinging. “Don’t worry, Lady Goneril, they’re always like this. Never gotten along, if I’m honest.”

“Please, Your Majesty, call me Hilda.”

Kadir clapped his hands. Servants came through a small door set into one wall, carrying trays laden with food. One of the servants stumbled and recovered, but the food intended for Claude spilled all over the tray. The servant scurried away and returned while the rest of them waited. Only when Claude was served did they begin to eat.

Hilda took a bit of saffron rice sprinkled with almond slivers and raisins, but before she could lift it to her lips, Claude snatched it from her. The gesture was playful. The look in his eyes was not.

She reached for his food, but he blocked her. “It’s poisoned,” he whispered. “Mine, not yours.”

It took all Hilda’s discipline not to jerk in surprise. She watched, ice spreading through her chest, as Claude raised a bite to his lips and chewed. All his talk about danger had been in earnest, it appeared.

“Who?” she asked between her teeth.

“Anyone. And I’ll be fine. I’ve built up a tolerance. See why I need to keep you safe?”

Hilda glanced at his siblings. None of them were looking their way. If this was what Claude had put up with his whole life…. His strange proclivities at the academy suddenly made sense. She might still be a bit angry with him for keeping his identity secret, but that didn’t mean she was going to let anyone try to kill him.

Silence fell as everyone ate. Hilda plastered enjoyment on her face. It was partly true—although the flavors were strange, and some things tasted a bit sour, it was still good. She especially liked the stuffed leaf things filled with spiced meat, the mint yogurt to dip the leaf things in, and the chilled, fresh melon.

“You enjoy it?” Claude asked as they were wrapping up.

Hilda smiled, searching his face for any hint of a connection. “It was very good.” She hesitated. “How is yours sitting with you?”

“It’ll be fine.” A bit of his usual spark flickered in his gaze, but it went flat again when he returned his attention to his father.

Kadir and Talia shared a glance. Talia nodded and frowned as she looked away, mouth pursed.

“So, Khalid,” Kadir said, shifting in his seat. “We have news for you.”

Both Bakur and Dafiya snickered. Ehfaz caught Hilda’s gaze and held it.

Kadir cleared his throat. “The Nasir family has offered their daughter in marriage. I’ve decided that you, as my only unwed child, are the appropriate match.” He glanced at Hilda. “I’m afraid we’ve already finalized the agreement.”

Hilda stared at Claude, her spine stiff. A draining sensation spread through her, as if she’d been stabbed and was bleeding out. Her fingers and toes grew cold. She’d thought his royal lineage had been his big secret, but maybe this was it instead.

Claude went still. The expression on his face might have been carved from granite for all the warmth it held. The others couldn’t see, but his fists clenched on top of his thighs until they trembled. A minute passed. The silence stretched out. He glanced at Hilda, and line of his mouth hardened.

“I admit I’m surprised,” Claude finally said, “but since everything’s already been settled, I may as well accept the offer.”

The room spun around Hilda. Her chest grew so tight she couldn’t draw breath.

Kadir blinked. “Excellent. We’ll hold a feast tonight to celebrate your engagement and you can meet her.”

“As you wish,” Claude said.

Hilda’s stomach roiled. She was going to throw up. “Excuse me,” she said, “where’s your washroom?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Claude offered her his hand and helped her stand.

“Weakling, can’t even take the food,” Bakur muttered as Hilda staggered to her feet.

“Bakur,” Talia snapped. Bakur shut his mouth.

Hilda focused on every posture exercise her mother had ever put her through as Claude escorted her from the room. She refused to crumble in front of Claude’s asshole siblings and royal parents. He led her down the corridor to a small room. When he opened the door, she pulled him in after her.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” she snapped. “I thought you being a prince was the secret, but you’re also engaged?”

Claude held up his hand. “Trust me, I was just as surprised as you are. But this can work to our advantage—”

Hilda slapped him across the face so hard he staggered backward. “Shut your lying mouth. I thought you loved me.”

“I do—”

“So that’s why you’re marrying another woman?”

“I’m not! It’s only pretend—”

“Like you pretended to be my husband?”

“It’s not the same at all. Just listen. I’ll find a way to get out of it. What I care about is drawing attention away from you and keeping you safe. If she’s a target, you won’t be. It’s the perfect diversion.”

“Even if it’s just pretend, it’s going to kill me to watch you with someone else. Please, don’t do this.”

Claude’s expression hardened. “This is to keep you safe. To keep Fódlan’s safe. What do you think will happen between our countries if one of those three manages to kill me and becomes ruler? You think Fódlan is going to remain unthreatened, especially as it rebuilds?”

“Holst wouldn’t let—”

“Holst can’t do shit about it. Sure, he might hold Fódlan’s Locket, but Almyra’s navy is massive. He’s an excellent general, but no one can guard both coasts against us at once.”

“So now it’s ‘us,’ is it? You’re one of them?”

Hilda had never seen Claude truly angry before. His features twisted, his gaze sparking. “I’ve never been one of you, just like I’ve never been one of them. You don’t know what it’s like, with your loving family and your soft, pampered life.”

“I sure did feel soft and pampered when I was dying for you on that bridge.”

Claude reeled as if she’d struck him. Good. She hoped it hurt.

“I thought you were different,” he said softly. “I thought you didn’t care where I came from.”

“I thought _you_ were different! I never thought you’d throw me over for some woman you’ve never met!”

Claude grabbed her arm. “I haven’t even been here twenty-four hours and they’ve already tried to murder me twice. The game has changed. This new woman will be the focus for people trying to hurt me, not you.”

“I can’t believe you’d put someone you don’t know in mortal danger like that.”

“She won’t be in danger, not like you. Her family name’s good enough they might not dare threaten her.”

Hilda tore her arm away. “I can protect myself.”

“You don’t know what these people are capable of. I do. Please, just trust me on this.”

“Trust you?” Hilda’s chest heaved as tears rolled down her face. “You really want to talk about trust? If you truly loved and trusted me, you would have told me everything a long time ago. But you can’t trust anyone, can you? Those people back there have warped you so badly that you can’t love or trust yourself, let alone anyone else.”

Claude reached for her, but she smacked his hand away and made for the basin. He blocked her path.

“You don’t understand,” he said between his teeth. “Your safety is the priority, but this could also be the chance I need to stand on equal footing with my siblings. If I can get them to give up their claims, I’ll become king when my father steps down. When I’m king, I can ensure peace, I can start to erase prejudice. The world will be a better place. That’s bigger than you or me, bigger than anyone. I’ll do it alone if I have to. I’ve come this far on my own.”

Hilda shoved him away. “Because Gronder would have been such as success if I hadn’t been there. Because you would have survived Derdriu without me. You’re not stupid. If I left here now, I’d bet you Freikugel the war will be over by the time I got home. Fódlan might be tired of fighting, but what better way to unite a fractured country than against a common enemy? The professor would listen if I came to him with troubling news of a threat to the east, and if I convince him, I convince Dimitri.”

“You wouldn’t,” Claude said softly, eyes wide.

“You are apparently a _very_ poor judge of what I would or would not do.”

He laughed, the sound bitter. “You are one of the biggest miscalculations I’ve ever made.”

“It’s because you never trusted how much I love you.” Hilda wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, but the tears came harder. “If, after Derdriu, you had said, ‘Hilda, I’m an Almyran prince who’s trying to become king. Will you be my queen?’ I would have said yes in a heartbeat. If I loved you enough to die for you, why wouldn’t I love you enough to spend my life with you?”

Claude stared at her, all the color gone from his face. 

Hilda could barely see through her tears as she pushed him toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the man I’ve been in love with for seven years is marrying someone else, and I really, _really_ need to throw up.”

“Hilda—”

She shoved Claude back into the hallway, locked the door, bent over the basin, and vomited. Then she sank onto the cool marble tiles of the floor and wept until her heart was empty.


	25. Chapter 25

Claude leaned against the door, cheek throbbing. The thick wood behind him failed to silence Hilda’s retching and choking sobs. What had he done? Something deep inside him had shattered at the look on her face. She was a professional—her true feelings rarely showed. To see her in such a state was like having his intestines pulled out his throat.

There was no time for him to linger. His rotten siblings were likely already plotting against him. At least the engagement would draw attention away from Hilda and buy him some time to come up with a plan.

He flagged down a couple of guards. “The lady within isn’t feeling well,” Claude said. “When she emerges, take her back to the main guest suite so she may rest. She’d be terribly embarrassed if anyone knew she was ill, so I would consider it a favor to the crown if you kept this to yourselves.”

Claude pressed some gold into their hands, and the guards took up position outside the room. Hilda wouldn’t thank him, but the armed escort would keep her safe as well as ensure she was taken care of. He’d be sure to have someone fetch her in time for dinner. She likely wouldn’t appreciate it if he showed up himself.

Claude only made it a half dozen yards down the hall before his knees shook so violently he needed to lean against the wall. Thankfully, no one was about. Hot tears leaked from his eyes, followed by an ugly sob. Gods damn it all. He’d destroyed the one good thing in his whole terrible life. She didn’t care that his engagement was a sham. She’d never forgive him, nor would she understand that he had to become king. It would help so many people—if his own happiness was the price, so be it.

He only allowed himself a few minutes of weakness before he wiped his face and squared his shoulders. By the time he returned to his family, his tears had dried. His mother caught his eye as he entered. She must not have liked what she saw, for she frowned.

“Where’s your friend?” his father asked.

“She’s not feeling well.” Claude paused. What would Hilda want him to say? “She’s rather delicate, and I’m afraid the journey was harder on her than I realized.”

Dafiya snorted. “If she had any sense, she wouldn’t have even tried.”

Bakur chuckled, but Ehfaz appeared thoughtful. That was never a good sign. Claude hated dealing with Bakur and Dafiya—they were bullies—but Ehfaz was the one he actually feared, for all his brother’s mild mannerisms.

“Will she be joining us for dinner?” his father asked.

“I think she’ll have recovered by then.” Hilda would carry on despite a broken heart, just like Claude would. It was yet another way they were alike.

“Now Khalid is back, you have no excuse not to name an heir,” Bakur said.

Kadir sighed. “Already? He’s not even been here a day. You’re giving an old man a complex. It’s almost like you want me to step down.”

“No, Papa,” Dafiya said, rubbing the side of her shaved head. “We just want to have a plan in case something happens, that’s all.”

“Then you can figure it out amongst the four of you. Although, it would be nice to retire. Go on adventures like when I was younger.” Kadir took Talia’s hand, and they smiled at each other. It was a look of true love.

It was a look Claude had shared with Hilda. A tremor passed through him as a sharp pain stabbed his chest. When he glanced up, Ehfaz was watching him. Claude would have to be especially on his guard tonight.

Another thought seized him with a jolt. Without Hilda to watch his back, he was truly alone. Again. Her presence was still with him, like a phantom limb. No, he had to learn to let go, at least until he had a plan.

The conversation must have continued without him, for his mother’s voice shut down the others. “You can continue your bickering without me. I think I’ll take a stroll around the gardens with Khalid. When Lady Goneril is feeling better, I hope you’ll each take a turn showing her around. Remember, in Fódlan, they think us savages. Please do not prove her right.”

Claude stood and took her arm. His father winked at them, and Claude led his mother out into the courtyard. They wound their way past the fountain, through a gate, and into the garden proper. His mother kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

“You’ve changed,” she finally said. “But not as much as I’d hoped.”

Claude winced. “I see you still don’t pull your punches.”

“What were you thinking, bringing that girl here, of all people?”

“Hilda has been a good retainer.” _And see how I’ve repaid her devotion._

“You brought a Goneril to Almyra. A _Goneril._ You may try to make her out as a wilting flower—and I grant you, she appears fragile enough—but she had a warrior’s calluses on her hand. She’s no decorative noblewoman.”

Claude’s mind raced. Had anyone else shaken Hilda’s hand? No, just his mother.

“She’s the reason I’m standing here today.” Claude sighed. “She wanted to see the wider world. You know I’m all for that. I couldn’t not help her.”

“And when did you get married?”

Claude stopped dead, slippers crunching on the gravel.

His mother frowned up at him. “I see the line on your finger where you used to wear a ring. Unlike the others, I understand what it means.”

“We’re not married.” The words still hurt to say. And it turned out it was his own damn fault.

“Is she pregnant?”

“Mother!”

“Is she? You’re a prince, Khalid. You can’t afford to be sloppy.”

“It’s not like that.”

“I’m your mother. You can’t lie to me.”

He could, and he had. He’d even been successful a time or two.

“I’m going to be marrying the Nasir girl, remember?” he said. “I appreciate you jockeying for such a powerful family for my match.”

His mother’s gaze crackled. There was a reason people feared her temper. “I saw the way you two looked at each other, although you tried to hide it. It’s stupid to get involved with a foreigner. Although I regret nothing, my life hasn’t been easy.”

“Hilda’s nothing like you,” Claude snapped.

His mother’s expression turned smug. “And there it is. You do care for her.”

“She was my best friend at the academy, all right? We have history.”

“Of all the people for you to befriend…you have a knack for chaos, my dove.”

She wasn’t wrong. He’d avoided Hilda at first because of her lineage despite his physical attraction. When it turned out she was as cunning as she was beautiful, he’d lost his mind. Just look where that had gotten him.

“That’s all behind me now.” His voice grew thick. “I still want to become king.”

“And you cocked that up by abdicating your position in Fódlan,” his father said behind them.

“Hi, Papa,” Claude said with a sigh.

Kadir clapped him on the shoulder. “Your brothers and sister had a field day when they heard. Why did you do such a thing? You were essentially a king.”

“A unified Fódlan is a better Fódlan.” Claude shook his head. “And the Alliance was too small for my dream.”

“Dream, huh? What about reality?”

Claude nodded. His father had never understood. Then again, his parents had always left him to look after himself. Hilda was the only one who—

No. He had to stop dwelling on her.

“I’m going to be your heir,” Claude said.

His father studied him. “Good luck getting your brothers and sister to abdicate. They’re secure in their power. Bakur’s wives have borne him a child apiece, and Dafiya expects to start trying with her husband soon. Ehfaz won’t touch his wife still, we made a poor match on that one.”

“If we’d known she was as dumb as a sack of rocks,” his mother said with a sigh. “Not much to look at, either. Mostly just rich.”

“Should have arranged it for Bakur, then,” Claude said.

His father shook his head. “Every single one of you would do Almyra proud if you became ruler, so I have no worries there. But you’re behind your brothers and sister. This Nasir girl is rumored to be a beauty, not to mention kind. Smart enough, but not too smart. I’m sure she’ll be an excellent mother to your children.”

Claude choked down the bile that rose in his throat. The thought of touching another woman made him ill. An image of Hilda, large with his child, flashed through his mind. It was so vivid his chest ached. Holding their baby in his arms was a dream he’d never see fulfilled. That child had been sacrificed for the good of Almyra even before its birth.

“I’ll be sure to give her many,” Claude said with a smile.

His father clapped him on the shoulder again and grinned. His grin faded, replaced by a frown. “Is your face all right? It looks red on one side.”

“Oh, that. Hilda almost passed out on our way to the washroom, and she accidentally grazed me when I caught her.”

“Hmm. Well, you’re looking a little rough. We can’t have that, not on the night you meet your new wife. Go back to your room and get some rest.”

His father squeezed his shoulder and sauntered back in the direction he’d come. Tiana took Claude’s arm, and they wandered in silence for a while longer. Claude loved his parents, he truly did, but he still felt alone when he was with them.

“I should be getting back or they’ll say I’m playing favorites,” his mother said, squeezing his arm. Her gaze searched his face. “Are you sure you’re all right with this arranged marriage?”

“I would do anything for Almyra, despite how little it’s done for me.”

“And both of those break my heart.” She patted his cheek and turned to follow her husband.

“Mine, too,” Claude murmured to himself. “Mine, too.”


	26. Chapter 26

It was nearly time for dinner, and Claude had forgotten how many outfits a day in the life of Almyran royalty required. He wasn’t allowed to wear the same thing he’d worn to breakfast. Hilda would love the numerous outfit changes, of course. She would think up accessories for—

Claude shook himself. Old habits were hard to break.

He ran through the night’s agenda in his head. Meet the Nasir girl. Find her weaknesses. Find her parents’ weaknesses. Get their support while finding a way to weasel out of the marriage. Force his siblings to abdicate. Convince Hilda to forgive him and make her his queen.

Seemed easy enough for an evening’s work.

Maybe he was going about this all wrong. Maybe the time for schemes had passed. He should kidnap Hilda, elope, and run away to Brigid or Dagda or somewhere they could live their lives out in peace. They could travel the world until they decided to settle down and have children. Create a little out-of-the-way love nest somewhere.

And let Almyra and Fódlan descend into war. With Teach on Fódlan’s side, Almyra just might lose. Claude couldn’t let more people die just because he couldn’t get his shit together.

He pushed the thoughts out of his mind as the servants dressed him in a long, dark brown coat embroidered in gold and tied his usual sash around his waist. A head wrap in his family’s colors completed the look. He stroked his beard in the mirror, having cleaned up his whiskers a bit with a razor.

It was time. He took a deep breath and made his way to the feasting hall, nodding to the guards posted in front of the enormous, brass-studded doors. The room inside was equally massive, the white marble carved with more intricate shapes than the eye could comprehend. Lanterns hanging from the lattice-wood ceiling illuminated the space until it was almost as bright as day. Claude greeted people—they knew he was prince by his garb—as he made his way to the dais where his family sat on velvet cushions behind their low table. He bowed to his mother and father and took his seat next to Dafiya.

“You’re late,” his sister said.

“I prefer to call it knowing how to make an entrance. By the way, I hear it’s about time for you to start popping out royal offspring.”

“Papa give you the lecture, too?”

“Sure did.”

Dafiya snorted. “Just because the Nasirs control a large chunk of the army doesn’t mean you’ll have an edge on me.”

“No, I have an edge on you for other reasons.”

Dafiya glared at him. Claude smiled in return.

A bustling at the entrance attracted Claude’s attention. “General Nasir and his daughter Sabiha,” the door attendant called, “betrothed of Prince Khalid.”

The modest cut of Sabiha’s expensive clothing couldn’t hide her voluptuous figure. Jet-black hair coiled atop her head in myriad braids, held in place with jeweled combs. Her full lips were painted red, and thick lashes framed dark eyes.

The sight of her left Claude cold.

“Aren’t you the lucky one,” Dafiya said, sounding a little grumpy.

A grizzled old man in an ornate jacket led Sabiha over. They stopped in front of the king and queen and bowed deeply. “Your Majesties, may I present my daughter and express my gratitude and excitement over the joining of our families.”

Both Claude’s parents glanced his way. “The pleasure is ours,” Kadir said. “Please, be seated. Sabiha, why don’t you join your future husband?”

Claude plastered a smile on his face as Nasir escorted her over and helped her up to the dais. “Pleased to meet you,” Claude said.

“The honor is ours,” Nasir said, gaze sharp.

Claude maintained his smile. He was used to being scrutinized as people tried to figure out if he was more Almyran than Fódlish. Nadir bowed deeply and backed away.

“I’m am grateful to be here,” Sabiha said softly, eyes downcast.

She wasn’t wrong—the only time spouses were allowed at the high table was the engagement feast and the wedding feast, at least until they ascended the throne. Claude’s siblings’ spouses sat with the other honored guests.

“I hope you find me acceptable,” Claude said, still smiling.

She paused. Interesting.

“You are very handsome,” she said. “If not for your eyes, I would not have known you were a mixed breed.”

So, tact wasn’t her strong suit. Fantastic.

“Does my heritage bother you?” he asked.

“No, that’s not it.”

His eyebrows rose. “Then what is?”

She bit her lip and looked away. The gears inside Claude’s mind started whirring.

They came to an abrupt halt when the door attendant cried, “Lady Hilda Goneril, ambassador from Fódlan.”

Silence fell as the entire hall focused on Hilda. Claude’s breath caught in his throat as Hilda glided through the door. Raspberry silk fluttered from her shoulders and hips. The maids knew just how to dress her to accentuate her figure. Her hair was half-up, wound around her head in intricate braids, but the rest hung loose past her waist. Her pale, shapely legs flashed through slits in the skirt as she followed a servant to her seat, moving with such poise and grace her feet hardly seemed to touch the floor. For all her petite stature, she filled the room. Claude’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

Was it his mother’s doing that Hilda was seated with his siblings’ spouses? Seeing her there, in her rightful place, sent pain lancing through his chest. He glanced at his parents and imagined what it would be like to sit there, Hilda by his side.

Hilda met his gaze. Her expression was friendly and open, but her eyes were empty. She wore more cosmetics than usual. When her gaze slid to Sabiha, her posture went rigid. Agony flashed over her face, so quickly he almost missed it. The urge to crawl over the table, jump off the dais, and pull her into his arms nearly overwhelmed him. Only when Sabiha plucked at his sleeve did he realize he was on his knees, hands planted on the table.

“Are you all right?” Sabiha asked, brow furrowed.

Great, now she probably thought he was crazy. Maybe that would work in his favor somehow.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Sabiha blushed prettily. “Not at all.”

Kadir clapped his hands, and dinner was served. The pheasant tagine with herbed couscous was divine—and not poisoned—but it sat like lead in Claude’s stomach. The eggplant and tomato salad with yoghurt was a little better. Hilda picked at her food.

“So.” Sabiha cleared her throat. “What do you like to do in your free time?”

He liked to lie in the grass with Hilda and find shapes in the clouds, like they did when they were students. Or run his hands over the muscles in her back and grip her supple waist. And laugh late into the night over court gossip, their heads together on the pillow. Claude’s eyes burned.

“I like to read and ride wyverns,” he said. “I’m also an accomplished archer. You?”

“I also like to ride, but horses. I’m afraid of heights.”

Perfect. Hilda’s squeals of joy when they were aloft echoed in his ears.

“I also like to embroider,” Sabiha said. “I’m not particularly good at archery—the quarter staff is my weapon of choice.”

Claude nodded, head filled with memories of Hilda.

He must have been staring at his beloved, for Sabiha nudged him again. “Look at that hair. I’ve never seen such a color. She’s so pale. Her eyes, too.”

That long, silky hair running through his fingers, its floral scent wafting up to him.

“There’s a wide variety of hair and eye colors in Fódlan,” he said. “Even so, her coloring is unusual.”

Sabiha put her finger to her cheek, apparently lost in thought. “Oh, that’s right. You lived in Fódlan for a time. You held rank there?”

“I did, but they no longer needed me, so I came home. I have a vision for Almyra.”

“Am I part of your vision?”

She sounded apprehensive, not excited. Damn it, he should have pressed the marriage issue with Hilda and eloped when they had the chance. Then none of this would have happened.

“You could be,” he said softly. “I swear to you, I will never make you do anything you don’t wish to.”

“ _You_ might not,” Sabiha muttered under her breath.

He raised an eyebrow.

“My father has certain expectations.” She gazed down at her meal.

“And you want something else?”

Sabiha looked away.

Claude suppressed a smile as patted her hand. “Let’s explore that later. We might be able to work together.”

Her blush deepened.

They made small talk through the rest of the courses, and finally it was time to dance. Almyra had a few courtly dances—certainly as nothing as stuffy as in Fódlan—and they’d get those out of the way before the brandy flowed and the party grew wilder. Claude led Sabiha to the dance floor, although his eyes were on Hilda.

Ice shot through his heart as Ehfaz made a beeline for Hilda, bowed, and took her hand. Claude took a step forward, accidentally tugging Sabiha. She yelped and stumbled. He caught her just in time.

“She really is very pretty once you get past the coloring,” Sabiha said.

Claude sighed. Was he that obvious? “That’s not it. She’s my friend, and she doesn’t understand the language. I want to make sure she’s all right.”

Ehfaz pulled Hilda onto the dance floor, but Claude could no longer spare his attention if he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself and embarrass the Nasirs. Sabiha was a good dancer, following his lead easily. She kept her eyes focused on his chin.

When the musicians began the next song, Bakur cut in and whisked Sabiha away. As a general, of course he’d want to curry favor with her family. Claude had never been so happy to see his eldest brother. Sabiha had barely stepped into Bakur’s arms before Claude shouldered his way through the crowd to Hilda. Her eyes widened when she saw him. The tiny step she took toward Ehfaz hurt more than any dagger wound ever had.

“May I have this dance?” Claude asked with a formal bow.

Hilda smiled, the expression strained. “Prince Ehfaz was trying to teach me the steps. I’m afraid I’m hopeless.”

“There is always hope.” Claude pulled Hilda into his arms and whisked her away. The smile Ehfaz shot him sent a shiver down his spine.

The chill was soon forgotten when Hilda pressed her palm to his. They rotated in a circle, hands and forearms touching, then whirled the other direction. He caught her waist and pulled her close. She must have brought her perfume with her from Fódlan, for she smelled the same as she always had. The scent ignited a flame deep inside him.

“I can fix this,” Claude said. “Please, give me a chance.”

Hilda shot him a flat look as she turned beneath his raised arm. “Which is more important to you? Me or the throne?”

“If I don’t become king, Fódlan’s war will end only for another to begin.”

“Ehfaz told me that’s not his plan if he were crowned. He said you were paranoid, that you couldn’t know what the sentiment here was after being gone so long.”

“You’ve known me for seven years. You really think any of that’s true?”

“I never thought you’d throw me over for a woman you’ve never met just so you could have a better shot at the crown.”

Claude clamped his hand on the curve of her back and pressed her the length of him. Their bodies molded together as if they had been made for each other. She gasped and put her hands flat on his chest.

“I beg you,” Claude murmured. “I can make this right. I have a plan—”

“No more schemes.” Hilda pushed away from him. “I gave you my heart, and you sacrificed it.”

Claude stood, numb, as she walked away from him. Ehfaz abandoned his partner and intercepted her. He bent his head and spoke to her, and Hilda put her hand on his arm. They walked toward the gardens. Claude’s hands balled into fists until they shook by his sides.

“Prince Khalid?”

He turned. Sabiha stood, hands folded in front of her.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Claude had a lifetime of practice wearing masks to hide the pain inside. His parents had told him to stand on his own two feet, to be strong without support, and so he would. He put on a smile and placed his hand on Sabiha’s lower back.

“I appreciate your concern,” he said. “Everything’s fine. Shall we have another dance?”

Sabiha nodded, and he took her in his arms and twirled her back into the fray.


	27. Chapter 27

“You looked as if you could use some air,” Ehfaz said as he escorted Hilda between lantern-lit walls of oleander.

Hilda shot a vapid smile up at him. She was pretty sure he saw through it, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. “Thank you so much. My head swims from the language. I really should learn it. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed.”

“It’s quite all right.” His fingers ran the length of her bare arm, lingering on her wrist.

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed. He was a few inches taller than Claude, and his hands were larger. The lantern light reflected off the lenses of his glasses, obscuring his eyes. She’d only spent a short time with him, and already she was convinced he was the one who’d tried to poison Claude at breakfast.

“Is this okay? Aren’t you married?” Hilda said with a bashful giggle.

“I haven’t seen the woman in years,” Ehfaz said with a slow smile. He had very nice teeth. “It was arranged, and we didn’t find each other agreeable. We’ve been keeping our options open.”

Hilda blinked up at him. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, of course, you’re from Fódlan and wouldn’t know.” He patted her hand. “Here in Almyra, we can take multiple spouses so long as everyone agrees to the arrangement.”

“Is that so?”

“I would make sure she agreed to any arrangement I cared to make.”

His words sent a shudder through Hilda, but he didn’t seem to notice. Out of all of Claude’s siblings, it appeared she’d attracted the attention of the most dangerous. Strange—he was obviously smarter than the other two, but he seemed last in line.

“So why are you so interested in me?”

His gaze flicked down to her cleavage. She suppressed a sigh. If that was the reason, she was going to have to reconsider her opinion of him.

Ehfaz stopped and stood before her, blocking her way. His hands drifted down and rested on her waist, and she suddenly felt very small. He smelled like resin and smoke.

“As you might imagine,” he said, deep voice rumbling from within his chest, “life can be very dull here sometimes. You are exotic, new. I’ve never seen anyone quite like you.”

Hilda didn’t have to feign her blush.

Ehfaz pulled her a little closer. “I’ve always been curious about Fódlan. My stepmother rarely talks about it, and people here can be so prejudiced. I could learn about it firsthand from you.”

“I would be happy to enlighten you however I can.”

“Is that so?” A lazy smile crossed his face, and for a moment, he resembled Claude so much it hurt. He leaned in. “Then what’s your relationship to Khalid?”

Hilda forced a laugh. “Oh, we’re old friends. My brother made me promise to be his retainer. I think it was really so I could keep an eye on Khalid. You see, if he hadn’t shown up, my brother would have likely been the next leader of the Leicester Alliance.”

“How interesting.” Ehfaz brought her a little closer. “And that’s all? The way he looks at you, I thought it might be something more.”

Hilda swatted him lightly on the upper arm and swallowed her scream. “Silly. If he felt anything for me, would he marry that lovely girl your parents chose for him?”

Ehfaz inclined his head as if conceding the point. Hilda choked down the bile that had risen up the back of her throat. It was time for her to decide. Was she going to help Claude or go against him? If Ehfaz was so eager to put his other wife aside and was interested in Hilda, maybe she could still become queen. That’d show Claude. If she were the one on the Almyran throne, not him…well, that was about the best revenge she could imagine.

There was only one problem—even if she hated his guts right now, she still thought he’d make the best king and wanted to support his dream.

“I think,” she said slowly, as if it had just occurred to her, “he was hoping to use me to help gain the throne. I’m not sure how, exactly. Maybe my connections in Fódlan? He’s always spoken of wanting peace between our people.”

Ehfaz nodded. “My brother always was clever. But as I said before, he’s not the only one who wishes for peace.”

“Oh?”

They resumed walking, and Ehfaz’s fingers laced with hers. It felt vaguely like cheating on Claude, which was both exciting and nauseating at the same time.

“Bakur and Dafiya are warriors made from the old mold,” Ehfaz said. “They live to fight and would be happy to lead the entire country into a senseless war. But I think there is a better way. You see, I value knowledge, yet how much is unavailable to me and to others due to ignorance?”

Hilda hummed as if contemplating his words. “And if someone were to help you realize your dream? How might they go about it?”

“So he has done something to you.” Ehfaz chuckled. “Out for a bit of revenge?”

Hilda shrugged. “I’m here to act in Fódlan’s best interests. Your half-brother ran the Alliance forces into the ground before he finally abdicated. I’m not sure having him on the Almyran throne is what would be best for my people. We need to deal with a competent, reasonable ruler who won’t act so recklessly.”

“So wise, and so beautiful.” Ehfaz stopped again, this time reaching under her hair and letting the strands run over the back of his hand as he pulled away. His breath caressed her ear as he leaned over and whispered, “Khalid doesn’t know what he’s missing. He’s a fool not to value you.”

“It would be nice if I could find someone who would.” Hilda looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes.

Ehfaz chuckled. When they resumed walking again, he put his hand on the small of her back. Its heat seeped through the thin fabric of her dress.

It was nothing like how Claude’s hand made her feel.

The scent of oleander filled the air as they walked the paths. Night insects chirped from within the shadowed depths. The moon’s light competed with the ornate lanterns. It was beautiful, and Ehfaz was surprisingly easy to be with. Perhaps it was because he was so similar to Claude, only where Claude was radiant, Ehfaz was dark. Hilda was in the mood for a little dark right about now.

They circled back to the feast hall, but Ehfaz hesitated.

“I’m tired,” Hilda said. “Would you mind escorting me to my room?”

Genuine relief crossed his face. Perhaps he didn’t enjoy raucous parties. In that way, he and Claude couldn’t be more different.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said.

The walk back to her quarters was uneventful. Only servants inhabited the hallways, since everyone else was at the feast. Ehfaz kissed her hand and bowed low as he bid her goodnight. She shut the door, listening to his footsteps as he walked away, and slid the latch home.

Hilda chewed on her thumbnail as she paced the bedchamber. The image of Claude dancing with that beautiful woman filled her head. It was all she could do not to crumple to the floor and start screaming.

Even so, after what she’d seen today, she was convinced that having Claude on the throne would be the best thing for Fódlan. She was sick to death of war. Claude might be a jerk, but he’d be the best king out of all his siblings. And, despite herself, she couldn’t bear to truly sabotage him. She’d sworn to always have his back, and when she made a promise, she made it for life. That’s why she tried to make as few of them as possible.

From what she’d gathered, Claude was the only one the siblings had tried to kill. Perhaps there was enough anti-Fódlan sentiment that such a thing could be easily blamed on a radical faction. It was just as well—she didn’t fancy killing anyone. Bad enough to have to murder on the battlefield. Assassination was much more personal, somehow.

It was settled. The bastard had broken her heart, but she wouldn’t abandon him. She believed in his dream, if not in him.

Hilda went to the window and gazed up at the night sky. It was time to channel Holst. How would he approach it? He’d get rid of the easiest one first while trying to get close to the most difficult. The latter she had covered—Ehfaz wanted to get closer, so that would buy her time and likely intel on the others. She could do it. This could work.

Now the big question. Should she tell Claude? He didn’t deserve the gesture.

But her chances of success would go up if she did, since he could provide valuable information. Now that she’d met his family, she could see where his deep distrust and sense of self-reliance came from. His parents obviously loved him, but they were just as obviously hands-off. All their children were products of that philosophy.

Hilda had never been so grateful for her own family. Really, when she thought about all her classmates, she was fortunate. Her family was strong yet stable. She didn’t fear her father like Caspar did or disdain him like Felix. She had an older brother who looked after her, and she had a friend like Balthus. No matter what happened with Claude, she had other people who loved her. She closed her eyes and hoped everyone was safe.

She waited until the distant sounds of music had quieted. Foot traffic in the hallway had increased for a while, but now it seemed scarce again. It was time. Strange to think they’d broken up just that morning. It would be difficult not to punch him in his stupid face. She just had to remember she was doing this for Fódlan.

Hilda opened her door and flagged down a servant. “Al’Amir Khalid?” she asked. After a few more minutes of pantomiming, Hilda managed to make herself understood.

“Hold on, Claude,” she murmured to herself. “I’m on my way.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm torturing the hell out of these poor characters. I promise things get better after this.

Claude left the festivities early. It felt wrong to celebrate his engagement when it wasn’t to the right woman. Fortunately, Sabiha appeared to feel the same way and agreed to leave with him. It looked better if they left together. She’d promised to think about talking to him about her situation. Hopefully, he’d learn something that would get them out of this fix.

He hung his jacket up in his armoire and stood barefoot in front of the mirror, trousers loose around his waist. He turned his cheek toward the lantern. The place where Hilda had slapped him was sore, but it was no longer red. It wouldn’t bruise. Thank goodness. She often didn’t know her own strength.

After such a long, awful day, Claude needed a good soak. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had enough wine to truly relax. Summoning a servant was too much of a bother. He stripped, washed, and slipped into the pool.

His exhaustion must have been worse than he thought, for he awoke to the sound of knocking. He scrambled from the pool and dried off, a towel around his hair and another around his hips. Could it be Hilda, come to talk things over? He’d told her he could fix this, after all. Surely, she’d want to. They’d been through so much together. They could get through this, too. He flung open the door, heart in his throat.

Sabiha stood before him, arms wrapped around herself as she glanced up and down the hallway. She startled at the sight of him.

“Come in,” Claude said. She darted past him so fast his towel almost flapped in the breeze.

He shut the door and regarded her with a frown. She wore an embroidered dressing gown, her hair twisted into a simple knot at the top of her head. Her gaze landed everywhere in the room but on him.

“It’s late,” he said. “Are you all right?”

Sabiha took a deep breath. She was trembling. “What you think your chances of becoming king are?”

“I’d like to think they’re good. I have experience leading a country, after all.”

“This marriage is very important to my father.” Sabiha spoke quickly, breathlessly. “He has impressed upon me the importance of making sure nothing goes wrong.”

“But what do _you_ want?”

“I…” She looked away, tears glistening in her eyes. “There is someone else I love.”

Claude caught himself before he sighed with relief. “Then that’s that. I would never force you to marry me—”

“You don’t understand. I _have_ to marry you.”

“Both parties have to be willing—”

“I’m willing.” The words were almost a shout. Sabiha’s eyes squeezed shut, her fists pressed against her chest where she held the dressing gown closed.

“Okay, you’re right. I don’t understand.”

“Our army is large, our might unquestioned. But without war, spoils have been few, and my father has been too generous in supporting the wastrels in our family. Our coffers have dwindled. We need money. You have money. Once I am queen, I can help my family.”

Claude ran his hand through his hair. The poor thing. He was reminded suddenly of Ingrid.

“And if you had the money?” he asked.

“My father still wishes for more power. Some men are never satisfied.” Her cheeks reddened. “Begging your pardon, of course.”

Claude waved her words away. “I took no offense, although I’d like you to know I have a vision for this country, not a thirst for power.”

Sabiha inclined her head, but he wasn’t convinced she believed him.

“Say you had the money, and your father had the endorsement of the king. What then?”

“I am my father’s only living child. I must carry on his bloodline.”

Claude paced and scratched his beard. There had to be something he could do. “This person you love, where are they?”

“She is a soldier held in reserve near Fódlan’s Locket.”

“I can work with that. The Fódlan woman at the party? Her brother’s the commander of the Locket. If we could get your lover to the fortress…”

Holst would be willing to help if it meant Claude and Hilda could marry, wouldn’t he? Then all Claude would have to worry about was faking Sabiha’s death. It would be a terrible blow to the Nasir family, but with compensation from the crown…yes, it could work.

“I have an idea, but you have to trust me,” he said.

Sabiha shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I must refuse.”

“What? Why?”

“Because my father does not want a long engagement. If he had his way, we would marry tomorrow.”

There was no way that would happen. Their wedding would be a state affair, and those always took a while to arrange. Claude snorted.

“That is why…” Sabiha’s cheeks grew crimson. “That is why he ordered me not to wait for the wedding.”

Claude’s mouth fell open as Sabiha pulled the dressing down off her shoulders, baring her body to the waist. He stared. Sabiha reached up and pulled the pins out of her hair. It cascaded down her back in a curtain of midnight.

She was beautiful, but the sight of her didn’t stir him. She wasn’t Hilda.

“I do not have experience with men.” Sabiha’s voice took on a strangled quality. “But please take me to bed.”

“E-excuse me?”

“Fill me with your seed so I may bear you a child.”

Claude gaped, his mind blank. A thought tried to form but failed in the face of the absurdity confronting him.

“I barely know you,” he said, as if that was the problem.

“No matter. I am ripe now, so you must take me tonight.”

Claude shook his head so hard the towel unraveled. He tossed it to the floor. “I’m going to have to say no.”

“You must!” Sabiha lunged forward and put her hands on his chest. “Please! It is the only way.”

Claude grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away. “I refuse. There are several problems. One, we’re both in love with other people. Two, children shouldn’t be brought into the world under such circumstances. Three, there are far better ways for us both to get what we want. Four…you know what? Four doesn’t matter. The first three are reason enough.”

“I beg you, Prince Khalid.”

Sabiha tugged against his grip. Claude stumbled, which made her lose her balance. She staggered backward, her heel catching the back hem of her dressing gown. It peeled away from her body as they went crashing to the ground. Claude landed on top of her, his hands still on her wrists, pinning her to the floor. She looked up at him, her face red and breathing ragged.

A knock came at the door. “Claude? I need to talk to you.”

Before he could respond or move, Hilda entered. Her mouth rounded in an O of horror as she looked at them. Then she spun on her heel and slammed the door behind her.

Claude leapt away from Sabiha and sprinted after Hilda. Unfortunately, Hilda was fast when she wanted to be, especially when she wasn’t wearing heels. He pursued the pink banner of her unbound hair, clutching his towel to keep it closed.

“Hilda, wait! That wasn’t what it looked like!”

“Shut up!”

“I swear! Just let me explain!”

“I don’t want to hear it. Did you ever even love me?”

“I love you right now!”

Claude had almost caught up—thank goodness her stride was so short. He lunged for her, but she darted into her room and slammed the door in his face. He pounded on the door with his fists.

“Hilda, let me in. Let’s talk about this.”

“No! I was stupid to come see you.”

“Come on. I swear to you—”

“Was I ever anything other than a fun lay until you could come home and get what you really wanted?”

“You _are_ what I really want. Please, open the door.”

The sounds of sobbing faded until he could barely hear them. Hilda must have retreated to bed. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the door. Damn it. His one opportunity to make things right with her, and it had all gone wrong. It had looked bad. He doubted there was any coming back from this.

Several minutes passed before Claude calmed. Only then did he realize how breezy the hallway was. No, it wasn’t the hallway, it was him. He stood naked in the corridor, towel around his ankles.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

The few servants in the hall stared as he picked up the towel and wrapped it around his hips. He was used to rumors following him around—he’d been the target of several smear campaigns from his siblings in his younger days—but this scene was sure to beat them all combined. His face felt like it was on fire all the way back to his room.

When he finally arrived back at his bedchamber, his only consolation was Sabiha was gone, as if she’d never been there at all.


	29. Chapter 29

Hilda remained in bed for three days. Servants brought her food and drink, but she consumed little. She couldn’t be bothered to bathe. Claude sent letters, poems, and flowers through her maids, but she ignored them all. A physician showed up, sent by Ehfaz. She prescribed Hilda some sedatives. Then at least Hilda was able to sleep.

On the fourth day, she decided not to let Claude influence her anymore. He might have been telling the truth when he said the situation wasn’t what it looked like—although lying mostly undressed on top of a naked woman generally only meant one thing—but he also might just be trying to ensure she stayed out of the way and out of trouble.

It was time for her to stop moping and take action. If trouble came, so be it.

When the invitation came to take breakfast with Ehfaz, as it had every day, she accepted. The maids dressed her in a gown of soft linen, did her hair, and left. Funny how she’d only been here a few days and it was already easier to be naked around her maids.

The soldier assigned to escort her led her to a small courtyard. Each corner of the rectangular space held a fountain that burbled into a miniature canal. Blossoms studded the low oleander hedges, and strips of other greenery adorned the space. A gazebo structure intricately carved from light stone sat in the center, and in the raised space, Ehfaz reclined on some cushions in a midnight-blue jacket.

His face lit up, and he rose as she neared. “Lady Goneril! I was beyond pleased when I heard you were well enough to join me this morning.”

“As am I.” Hilda lowered herself onto the indicated cushions. “Thank you for remembering me each day I was unwell.”

“I don’t see how anyone could forget you.”

Hilda giggled behind her hand. Oh, boy, that was laying it on a bit thick so early in the day. Not that she minded.

Ehfaz pushed a platter of little fried pastries her direction. “I hear in Fódlan, you prefer sweet breakfasts.”

“How thoughtful of you. These are very good.” And they were—the honey-soaked pastries tasted faintly of rose.

“Would you care for some melon? And we have pickled sardines.”

“Thank you. I enjoy fish.”

“I shall make a note.”

They ate and talked and laughed. It was all very comfortable and easy. Too easy. She’d already known he wanted something from her, but now it was obvious. That was fine. She wanted something, too.

After they were finished eating, she put her elbows on the table and leaned in. Her arms pushed her breasts together, deepening her cleavage. “What was it like, growing up a prince?”

“Surely Khalid told you.”

“I got the impression his experience wasn’t typical.”

Ehfaz chuckled and reclined on the cushions. “In Almyra, the succession isn’t based on birth order but on skill. What skills those are depends on the king or queen’s personal philosophies. As you might imagine, it tends to skew toward military prowess.”

“Makes sense.” She leaned forward a little more, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

He swallowed. “And, uh, my brother and sister act in accordance with those values. Bakur fancies himself the finest axe wielder in all of Almyra.”

“Oh, you use axes here, too? My brother favors the axe. As for me, I’d be all too happy to never see another axe as long as I live.”

Ehfaz covered her hand with his. “Was the war very difficult for you?”

“The hardest thing is watching friends die.” Hilda didn’t have to feign her sadness. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Years and years of death…I’d do anything to stop it, anything to prevent another one.”

“Hence your support of Khalid.”

Hilda nodded.

Ehfaz sighed. “My brother and sister think he’s weak, you know. They think _I’m_ weak. For not wanting war.”

“You certainly don’t look weak.” Hilda put a bit of purr into her voice and ran her finger down his forearm. Oh, goddess, was he blushing? Adorable. As the middle child, and a bookish one in a warrior culture, he likely didn’t get the attention he deserved.

A charged silence fell. Ehfaz’s gaze intensified, as if he were trying to read her mind. He was definitely evaluating her figure, especially once she fully reclined on the cushion and yawned. Almyrans had chairs—lots of them—but they appeared to prefer to lie around after eating. She loved it.

“Tell me about your brother and sister,” she said. “I’ve only spent a moment with them, and I suspect they’ll find me beneath their notice.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Ambassador, remember? If one of the others becomes ruler, I need to be able to help my king get perspective, so he knows how best to reach out.”

Ehfaz made a sound deep in his chest but said nothing.

Hilda rolled onto her side and looked up at him. “May I ask you a favor?” Then she shook her head, eyes downcast. “No, I shouldn’t. You wouldn’t have time.”

“What is it?”

“Will you…will you teach me Almyran? Khalid never would.”

Hilda touched the back of Ehfaz’s hand as she spoke, so lightly his skin barely registered against her fingers. He smiled and took her hand.

“Typical, that he would want to control the situation by forcing you to go through him for translation.” Ehfaz shook his head. “I am honored by your interest and would be delighted to act as your tutor.”

Hilda squeezed his hand. “Thank you so much.”

Ehfaz helped her stand. Her ankle rolled on the cushions, and she fell against him. His arm went around her reflexively and held her steady. She looked up at him in surprise. His cheeks reddened.

A movement behind him caught her eye. Claude and his future bride were taking a stroll in the covered walkway just beyond the garden. He stopped when he saw her and Ehfaz, expression hardening. Hilda pressed her breasts against Ehfaz more firmly. His grip on her waist tightened, and his breathing grew a tad heavier.

“Oops,” Hilda murmured.

Ehfaz brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

Claude walked away so quickly his woman had to trot to keep up. Hilda smiled up at Ehfaz.

“You’re even prettier when your smile is real,” Ehfaz said.

Hilda’s cheeks heated, and he chuckled. Damn it, she was going to be careful around him. But in the end, she had no choice.

He pressed her knuckles to his mouth. Claude wasn’t around to watch, but Hilda stood on tiptoe and kissed Ehfaz’s cheek anyway.

“Be gentle with me,” she murmured. “I’m only used to Fódlan manners.”

With that, she walked away, leaving Ehfaz with surprise written all over his features. She smiled to herself as she went. What was it that Holst always used to say? Oh, yes, she remembered now.

Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.


	30. Chapter 30

“Are you all right?” Sabiha asked Claude as they sat in his room, maps spread out all over his table. It felt like she asked him that every five minutes.

“I’m fine.” Claude rotated the map and peered at the mountain passes. It was no good. All but Fódlan’s Locket were impassable. The mountains of the Throat were high enough—and the range itself was wide enough—that wyvern soldiers would freeze to death before they reached the other side. Damn it, he was going to have to involve Holst in faking Sabiha’s death, after all.

Sabiha sighed as she leafed through her book. She was good, quiet company. Mild. Obedient. Not an incessant chatterbox. More modestly dressed. Never called him on his bullshit. Unlike Hilda in every way.

Gods, he missed Hilda.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re all right, ever since you spotted Lady Goneril.” Sabiha sat up straight. “Wait, do you think she’s going to marry Prince Ehfaz?”

Maybe Sabiha did call him on his bullshit after all.

“She’s too smart for that,” Claude said. “He has a heart of stone. Half of the attempts on my life when I was a child were arranged by him.”

Sabiha nodded. Of course, she understood—she was Almyran. Hilda had been horrified when he’d related some of his childhood experiences to her. As if that sort of thing didn’t happen in Fódlan with their Crest obsession. Miklan Gautier was an excellent example.

“My maids heard from Lady Goneril’s maids that she still won’t open your letters or gifts,” Sabiha said.

Claude’s jaw tightened. Damn it, if he could just talk to Hilda…but she acted like he didn’t exist. Not that he blamed her. “Thank you for helping me deliver them.”

“She must see that you’re trying.”

“By the way, how’s the situation with your father?” Claude asked. He couldn’t take her line of questioning anymore.

Sabiha sighed. “He’s pleased by how much time we’re spending together, but he’s disappointed I’m not pregnant.”

“He’s going to be waiting a very long time.”

Sabiha smiled. “Thank you for your help. You’re a good man.”

He hadn’t been a good man to Hilda.

Claude frowned down at the maps. Hilda far too sharp to get entangled with someone like Ehfaz. Unless she was the instigator? She certainly knew how to use her feminine wiles, and not even someone like Ehfaz was immune. But why would she get close to him, knowing the danger? Maybe she wanted to become queen any way she could. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d underestimated her.

“You’re doing it again,” Sabiha said softly.

Claude shook himself and stood up straight. “Sorry.”

“If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. If you carry too many secrets around, they’ll crush you. Or they’ll backfire, like mine did.”

“Trust me, I know.”

Then the finance minister’s messenger showed up. Claude took the reports to pour over later. They’d help him figure out just how much he could pay Nasir once Sabiha was presumably dead. If he started discretely moving money now, he’d have a tidy sum squirreled away when the time came.

He spent the rest of the day trying to formulate a reason for Sabiha’s lover’s squad to approach the Locket without actually putting anyone in danger. Letting everyone in on it would increase the risk their plot would be discovered. Claude pondered until his head felt like it would explode. It was a mercy when they stopped for dinner. Or it would have been, if Hilda wasn’t sitting front and center at every group meal. Every time he saw her, he sustained a fresh wound to his heart. He liked to think he hid his feelings at least as well as she did. If she was hurting, it was almost impossible to tell.

A week passed, and Claude grew closer to finalizing his plans. He scratched his beard as he poured over letters from various military officials, confirming wyvern squad locations and the number of reserve soldiers near Fódlan’s Locket. Claude didn’t know the posted commander, so he’d need to investigate the man. Overall, the troop situation didn’t seem insurmountable. Good.

“You’re going to have to die in a wyvern fall, I’m afraid,” Claude said as he frowned at the letters.

Sabiha, lounging on his bed, looked up from her volume of poetry. “I really don’t like heights,”

“It would take too long to get there if we do the troop review on horseback.”

Sabiha shuddered.

Claude chewed on his lip. Not that the troops would actually be reviewed, but it was a good excuse to get her near the border. It also dovetailed nicely with escorting Hilda to the safety of her brother, if she could be convinced to go. Once she was secure, he could try harder to patch things up before returning to deal with his siblings.

Sabiha returned to her book. “I heard something interesting this morning.”

“Oh?”

“My guards were talking. Apparently, Prince Bakur is giving an arms demonstration. He’s welcoming challengers.”

Claude rolled his eyes.

“I guess he’s going to grant one request to anyone who can beat him.”

“No one can beat him. Trust me, I’ve fought him, I know.”

“I’m just telling you what I heard.”

Claude sighed. It stank of Ehfaz. He’d goaded Bakur into such things before, not that it was difficult to goad Bakur. Either way, it was of no interest to Claude. He had better things to do. Once he figured out how to get out of this marriage, he’d have time to figure out how to get his siblings to abdicate in his favor.

Sabiha stretched and rolled off the bed. “I think I’ll go watch.”

“Have fun.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I’ve seen Bakur fight.”

“Are you sure? Because I also heard he’s doing it to introduce a certain someone to the might of the Almyran warrior, partly because that certain someone’s brother is supposed to be even stronger, and the prince can’t bear to be inferior to someone from that country.”

Claude’s head snapped up.

Sabiha chuckled. “Have you decided to escort me after all?”

“Maybe. I’m certainly not making any headway here. When does this thing start?”

“About a quarter hour ago.”

Claude glanced at the window. The sun was much lower in the sky than he’d expected.

Sabiha shrugged. “I wasn’t interested in seeing the more amateur fighters get beaten.”

Claude rolled up the maps and stored them in their cases. The books he left on piles on his table and on the floor. He shrugged into an elaborately embroidered jacket and tied his sash.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm.

Sabiha smiled. They left his quarters, wound through the halls, and arrived at the training grounds. To his relief, they found a spot in the back. Claude half hid behind a pillar, where he could see the action without being spotted.

His family sat on a dais at one end. Bakur’s three wives, Dafiya and her spouses, and even his parents were there to watch the demonstration. Hilda was in attendance, too, sitting on the cushions next to Ehfaz. If she sat any closer, she’d be in his lap. All she had to do was lean back and she’d rest against his chest. Claude’s fingers tightened on the column.

Bakur stood in the center of the yard in training leathers. The head of his battle axe rested on the ground before him. He grinned at the crowd, teeth white against his dark beard.

“Next,” Bakur bellowed.

A woman shouldered her way through the crowd. Through some fluke of genetics, Bakur was a large man—he’d give Raphael a run for his money. The woman wasn’t much smaller. She hefted her lance.

Sabiha gasped as the two warriors clashed. Bakur’s gleaming axe sliced through the air. The woman warrior did well, but the round still only lasted a few minutes. She joined the other bloody participants on the bench as a physician checked her wounds. Judging by the number of wounded, Bakur had been at it for a while.

They watched as he worked his way through several participants. Then he took a break to rest, and servants brought wine, brandy, and appetizers. The hum of conversation filled the yard, but Claude couldn’t tear his attention from Hilda.

“So many people ignore you,” Sabiha said, looking around with wide eyes. “But you’re a prince.”

Claude shrugged. “I’m only half Almyran. You made a comment on my heritage when you first met me, too.”

“Did I?” Her cheeks reddened. “How awful.”

Claude’s heart lifted. This was how the world changed: exposure, one person at a time. Once the borders were opened, perhaps he could encourage tourism, or at least a scholar exchange or something. Begin the eradication of prejudice in the educational system. More people should be educated, too. If Cyril had a formal education, he likely wouldn’t have been stuck as the Goneril’s—and later Rhea’s—servant.

“They’re starting again,” Sabiha said.

Bakur turned in a circle in the center of the yard, arms outstretched. “Does no one else dare challenge me? Where is your Almyran pride?”

A commotion on the dais caught Claude’s attention. Ehfaz appeared to be cajoling Hilda, who was firmly refusing. Or that’s she wanted everyone to think—Claude recognized the signs. This was a ploy, or he was a wyvern wearing a party hat.

Hilda reluctantly descended the dais, looking for all the world like she was afraid. Claude’s heart constricted despite himself. It took all his discipline not to run out there and stop her.

“You?” Bakur guffawed, his laugher echoed by the rest of the audience.

“Come on,” Ehfaz drawled, eyebrow raised. “You gave everyone else a chance. Besides, her brother’s the one rumored to be better than you. Just look at her—are you afraid of such a precious little thing?”

Claude’s fist clenched. Ehfaz knew about Hilda’s strength. How could he know? Unless she told him. Unless…this was her idea. Claude’s eyes widened. Could she be working with Ehfaz? No. She wouldn’t.

Bakur’s face turned purple. “I am never afraid, especially of a Fódlan barbarian.”

“What did he say?” Hilda asked Ehfaz.

Ehfaz smiled fondly. “He called you a barbarian, my dear.”

“That’s what I thought.”

The crowd roared as Hilda made her way to the weapons rack. There were hoots and catcalls—Almyrans didn’t often hold back. It seemed to all roll off her as she took her time selecting a weapon, placing her fingers on each one but not taking them off the rack. She finally paused at a double-edged battle axe. It looked like it weighed as much as she did.

Hilda rested her hand against the handle but didn’t pick it up. “What do I get if I win?”

“Anything your heart desires,” Bakur answered in Fódlish.

“Do you promise?”

“What are they saying?” Sabiha asked, and Claude translated.

“I promise,” Bakur said with a grin.

Hilda smiled, the picture of soft innocence. A shiver ran down Claude’s spine. He knew that expression.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Hilda said sweetly and hefted the axe off the rack with one arm.

The training yard fell silent. Even Ehfaz appeared shocked. Claude glanced at his parents. Their mouths had dropped open.

All amusement slid from Bakur’s face. He raised his axe. Hilda followed suit.

They clashed with a ringing of metal, the sound so loud Claude winced. He hadn’t had the luxury of watching Hilda fight since their student days—he’d always been in battle right alongside her. It was different being an observer. Her speed, her grace, and her ferocity were all overwhelming. And yet she fought with a cheerful expression on her face, her petal-pink hair trailing from its ponytail like a banner. Every time Bakur struck, she parried. She sliced back, her swings effortless, and small cuts appeared on his leather armor.

Bakur shook himself. He drove her backward, each of his blows strong enough to take a warrior to their knees. Hilda held him off, but just barely. Claude gripped the column. She wore no armor, and Bakur had no mercy.

“Hilda,” Claude whispered between his teeth, sweat winding its way down the groove of his spine.

Bakur’s axe came crashing down. Claude winced, but Hilda spun away. Her weapon flashed, and Bakur staggered backward, blood trickling down his arm. Ehfaz howled with laughter.

It wasn’t a bad cut, but rage twisted Bakur’s face. Hilda was the first opponent to damage him. He redoubled his blows. Once again, Hilda was pushed backward. He got her in the corner, raised his axe, and brought it down. There was nowhere for her to run. Claude closed his eyes and tried not to vomit.

The crowd roared.

Claude cracked an eye open. Hilda had ducked under Bakur’s guard. She gripped the shaft of his axe, her arm trembling with the effort. Bakur stared at where she’d arrested his swing. Hilda bared her teeth and shoved him backward. He stumbled, and she used the handle of her axe to trip him. A thud echoed through the room as he smacked against the stone, and she leaped upon him, axe blade at his throat.

Hilda looked at Ehfaz and smiled innocently. “Does this mean I win?”

“What did she say?” hissed Sabiha, eyes wide.

Ehfaz’s grin was larger and more genuine than any Claude had ever seen. He vaulted off the dais and ran to Hilda. She discarded her weapon as he picked her up by the waist and spun her around, laughing all the while.

Bakur remained on the ground, stunned expression on his face. The moment Ehfaz put her down, Hilda went over to Bakur and offered him her hand. He stared at her. The noise of the crowd going wild kept Claude from hearing what she said, but Bakur actually let her help him up. They spoke, heads close together, and the color drained from Bakur’s face. Ehfaz added a comment. Bakur glared at Ehfaz, fists clenched so tightly they shook. Ehfaz smirked. Claude frowned as Bakur stood before the king and queen. He held his head high as he spoke. Shock rippled across his parents’ faces. They looked at each other, and finally Kadir nodded.

“What did he say?” Sabiha asked.

“I don’t know,” Claude replied. “It’s too loud to hear.”

Ehfaz wore a triumphant grin as he pulled Hilda into his arms and kissed her on the forehead. Claude started forward, but Sabiha put a hand on his arm. He clenched his teeth and backed down.

Moments, later, the message reached them: Prince Bakur had relinquished his right to the throne. Only three heirs remained. Claude found Hilda in the crowd. She was looking right at him. She wasn’t smiling.

Claude grabbed Sabiha by the arm and dragged her out of the training hall, through the corridors, and back to his room. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“What’s wrong?” Sabiha asked once he’d closed and locked the door.

Claude paced, running his hands through his hair. “They’re working together.”

“Who?”

“Hilda and Ehfaz. She’s going to help him win the throne.” He had played this all wrong, and it wasn’t going to bite only him in the ass. If he didn’t stop them, if Ehfaz became king, it would mean war between Fódlan and Almyra. Why didn’t Hilda see that? Why was she helping him?

Sabiha hummed, frowning. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure. Why would you say that?”

“Because I’m certain she was looking at you the whole time, not him.”

Claude stared at her. Ohhhh, fuck. The possibility of Hilda and Ehfaz teaming up was bad enough, but Hilda was loyal to a fault. If she was planning to use Ehfaz to get rid of the competition and then double-cross him…. Ehfaz was likely thinking the same thing.

As good as Hilda was, she had a glaring weakness, one Ehfaz didn’t share: a good heart. She would never have Ehfaz killed. Ehfaz wouldn’t hesitate to murder her once she’d outlived her usefulness.

Claude unrolled his maps and tossed his jacket on the bed. He had to think of something and fast. Hilda’s life was at stake. If he’d ever wondered which he’d choose—Hilda or Almyra—he had his answer.

“Get over here,” he said to Sabiha, gesturing at the maps. “We’re running out of time.”


	31. Chapter 31

Hilda smiled and put down her cup of tea as she, Ehfaz, Dafiya, and Dafiya’s spouses sat around the low table, drinking tea and eating small confections made of almond paste. It had been two weeks since her victory against Bakur, and Ehfaz had been more helpful and attentive than ever. She only had to see Claude and his pretty bride-to-be at mealtimes. Her studies of the Almyran language had paid off enough for her to be able to speak to her maids, which had been just the breakthrough she’d needed. As much as she hated to study, in this case, it had been worth it.

“Congratulations on your pregnancy,” Hilda said. “You must be very excited.”

“Thank you,” Dafiya said then switched to Almyran. “Ehfaz, why did you have to bring her?”

Hilda took another sip of tea. She didn’t understand every word, but she was able to comprehend enough.

“You saw how strong she is,” Ehfaz said. “She’s a reliable bodyguard.”

He shot her an indulgent smile. The five of them made small talk for a while. Hilda did her best to follow but only answered when spoken to in her native tongue. Ehfaz was enjoying himself immensely, if his grins were any indication. And well he should—it had taken Hilda the better part of last week to find sources to corroborate the information she’d uncovered via her maids.

Still, a few things were odd. She’d been flirting with Ehfaz, but he’d only responded to a point. It wasn’t because he wasn’t attracted to her. His body had made that obvious the few times she’d sat in his lap. She was starting to worry he wouldn’t take the hint. Not that she wanted to sleep with him—Claude was the only man she desired, even now—but she needed Ehfaz to want her to be his queen.

Then there was the fact that Holst hadn’t written her the entire time she’d been in Almyra. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know where she was or who she was with. In fact, she suspected he had known more about Claude’s parentage than she had when they left House Goneril. She’d written him every third day. Strange that he wouldn’t respond or that there was nothing to report about the war.

Hilda took another sip of tea and examined Ehfaz over the rim of the delicate porcelain cup. His attention was fixed on Dafiya, who also drank. A bangle sparkled on her wrist. In fact, she wore two, as did both her spouses. Bakur had worn three, as had his wives. King Kadir and Queen Talia only wore one each. None of them wore wedding rings.

Despite herself, she missed her own bracelet, the one had Claude had given her. If only she’d known he was proposing without asking. It was so like him. If she had it to do all over again, she’d have eloped when she had the chance.

“I heard something interesting the other day,” Ehfaz said, a small smile on his face.

Hilda’s heart rate picked up speed. A bead of sweat worked its way down her spine.

“Oh?” Dafiya popped one of the almond confections in her mouth.

“Indeed.”

Dafiya rolled her eyes and swallowed. “Get to the point. You know I don’t tolerate teasing.”

“This is no tease.” Ehfaz’s smile widened. “I think Mother and Father would be very interested to learn that their new grandchild isn’t your husband’s.”

Hilda paused with her cup halfway to her mouth. They had agreed he’d wait until Dafiya’s spouses were out of the room before springing the news. The blackmail was only supposed to put pressure on Dafiya, not hurt her family.

“What?” her husband said, eyes wide.

“Don’t believe him.” Dafiya’s voice was confident, but her hands began to tremble, and the color drained from her face. “You know how Ehfaz likes to hurt people.”

Hilda had expected to hear that from Claude since they were half-siblings, but she was surprised to hear it from Dafiya. Ice spread slowly through her veins. Not even the tea warmed her.

“Is it true?” Dafiya’s husband looked between her and Ehfaz.

Ehfaz smiled again. “Why would I lie? But I can be convinced to keep it a secret.”

“And what’s your price?” Dafiya’s cup rattled against the table as she set it down.

Dafiya’s wife smacked the table with her hand. “You wouldn’t ask that if it weren’t true. Come on, my heart.”

Dafiya’s wife grabbed Dafiya’s husband’s hand, and they stormed from the room.

“How dare you,” Dafiya said between her teeth. “How dare you come in here and destroy my family.”

Hilda’s hands began to shake. She put down her cup and folded them in her lap. Oh, goddess.

Ehfaz’s smile didn’t fade. The bastard was actually enjoying this. “It can stop there, if you’re willing to work with me.”

“And if I’m not?”

“You know what the laws against infidelity are.”

Hilda didn’t, however. She examined Dafiya’s face as fear spread across it. It wasn’t good, then.

“What do you want?” Dafiya grated.

Ehfaz’s eyes glittered like a reptile’s. “Abdicate.”

“You piece of shit. You destroyed my family for the throne?”

Hilda’s eyes began to burn. What had she done? She hardly knew Dafiya and had nothing against her. And Claude was next on Ehfaz’s list.

“Unless you choose not to abdicate,” Ehfaz said to Dafiya. “Then I suppose I just did it for fun.”

A shiver ran down Hilda’s spine. She took another sip of her tea and pretended she didn’t understand what was going on. Dafiya needed to direct her hatred at Ehfaz. That was where it belonged, anyway.

The two siblings locked gazes. Dafiya’s hands flexed as if she wanted to reach across the table and strangle Ehfaz. Hilda would have been happy to let her, so long as she abdicated first.

“Fine,” Dafiya spat. “On one condition.”

Ehfaz arched an eyebrow. “You think you’re in a position to negotiate?”

“Tell my spouses it was a lie. Tell them you concocted the evidence and I gave in only to save our reputation.”

If Hilda thought her puppy dog eyes would work on Ehfaz, she would have turned them on him.

Fortunately, he appeared to relent. “So be it, as long as you tell our parents by the end of the day.”

Dafiya let out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping. “Agreed.”

“Excellent.” Ehfaz stood and clasped his hands together. “Hilda, my dear,” he said in Fódlish, “we’re done here.”

“Oh, of course.” Hilda stood and cocked her head, brow furrowed. “Dafiya, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just go,” Dafiya said.

Ehfaz chuckled and turned to leave. Hilda raised an eyebrow and mimed knifing Ehfaz in the back. Dafiya’s lips twitched in an almost-smile, but she shook her head. Hilda nodded and hurried after Ehfaz.

“I assume that went as expected?” Hilda asked as they strolled down the walkway adjacent to the gardens.

Ehfaz smiled. “Even better than expected, I’d say.”

Hilda was beginning to hate his smile. She should have listened to Claude. She shouldn’t have been so stubborn.

“That leaves only Khalid,” Ehfaz said. “Any ideas, since you’ve been so helpful with the others?”

As if she would ever let him get his hands on Claude.

“Come, now.” He ran his hand down her bare arm and laced his fingers with hers. “I know he hurt you somehow. This is your chance for revenge.”

Hilda swallowed. Time to tread very, very carefully. “I’m not sure just revenge is enough.”

“Oh?” He pulled her closer. “Then what about a crown?”

She ignored how wrong he felt pressed against her. “What are you saying?”

“Would you want to be my queen?”

It was a lie, pure and simple. Even if his smile didn’t give it away, logic did. He cared about as much for peace as she did for hard work. If he wanted war, having a queen from Fódlan would not be to his benefit.

A tremor ran through her, but she smiled up at him anyway. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind being queen.” And she wouldn’t—just not his.

“Think on it.” They resumed walking down the hall. Her hands grew clammy. There was nothing she could do about it.

“I think I’ll go rest and practice my alphabet,” she said, stretching and yawning. “See you at dinner?”

“Of course. In fact, I was thinking that we might dine alone tonight. I have something special planned.”

Ehfaz’s arms snaked out, wrapped around her waist, and pulled her close. She gasped as his lips mashed against hers, his hands sliding down to her rear. No, she couldn’t struggle. It would give the game away.

Fortunately, he let her go almost immediately. Hilda looked up at him, breathing hard to keep her gorge from rising. He seemed to think it was for another reason, for he smirked at her.

“Until tonight,” he said, and moved off down the hall without her.

Hilda stared after him until he turned a corner and was out of sight. This was it, the end of the game. She’d go to Ehfaz tonight because she had to see this through, but she wasn’t going to go without telling anyone where she was. The only problem was she was alone. Friendless. Well, not entirely, but the librarians and maids and other servants she’d befriended wouldn’t be able to help her now.

There was only one person who could.

She kept a tight rein on her imagination as she made her way to Claude’s quarters. The path was familiar. She might have stood in front of his door a few times in the middle of the night, when she couldn’t sleep. Maybe she was listening for the sounds of him making love with his bride-to-be. Maybe she was beyond relieved she’d never heard anything.

Soon Hilda stood before his door. It was unlikely he was there—it was the middle of the afternoon. Although, if he remained true to his habits, he might be napping after a long night in the library. She raised her hand to knock but pulled back before she could.

“Claude?” she said softly, tears filling her eyes. “Khalid?”

There was no answer, of course. She raised her hand again, hesitated, and pressed her ear against the wood. Voices came from within. Claude’s deeper tones mingled with a higher, lighter voice. It had to be his future wife. They laughed and fell quiet.

Hilda rested her forehead against the door. She couldn’t interrupt him, not if he was happy. His happiness was all she’d ever wanted. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her face. Her fingers rested against the wood as she imagined him on the other side, lying in bed with that pretty young woman. If only Claude had loved Hilda enough to trust her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t make that mistake with his new wife.

A letter would do the trick. It wasn’t as immediate, but then she wouldn’t have to bother him. Hilda hurried back to her room, asked her maids for pen and paper, and wrote. Then she tore it up and tried again. By the time she had a good enough draft, it was time to meet Ehfaz for their private dinner.

Her maids dressed her in fine midnight silks, stitched in gold as always. This gown had a more modest cut. Thank goodness. Her assets had done their job, and it was time to give them a break. Her mind and her strength would get her through the next few hours. She had to protect Claude no matter the cost. Ehfaz would be a wily opponent.

On her way out, she grabbed the letter from her table and handed it to the eldest maid. “You will give to Prince Khalid, please?” she said in her broken, heavily accented Almyran.

The old woman bowed, the ornament Hilda had made for her sparkling in her gray hair. “Yes, my lady.”

“Thank you.” Hilda bowed her head and smiled.

Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and made her way to Ehfaz’s quarters. The Almyrans appeared to do a lot of entertaining in their rooms. It had taken her a while to get used to it.

Ehfaz opened the door immediately at her knock. He wore a long coat of deep green embroidered in silver. It went well with his coloring. His face lit up when he saw her. He really was a handsome man. She glided past him into his quarters and reclined at the low table. Linhardt would have loved this aspect of the Almyran lifestyle. She wondered if he had made it through the war, if the war was even over yet.

“Thank you for coming,” Ehfaz said. The lock slid home with a click.

Hilda pretended not to notice. “Thank you for having me.”

The table was already laden with food and drink, including the sweet brandy Hilda preferred. Ehfaz sat across from her, the lamplight throwing shadows across his sculpted face. His glasses shone, obscuring his eyes. Funny, spectacles had always been so cute on Ignatz, but on Ehfaz, they held a bit of menace.

“Please, let us eat.” Ehfaz took a bite, and she followed suit. They ate in silence.

When they were finished, Ehfaz pulled a box out of his pocket. “I have something for you.”

He passed it across the table. Hilda opened it. Inside was a necklace of jet, rubies, and a large pink diamond set in delicate gold.

“It’s one of the most beautiful pieces I’ve ever seen,” she said, eyes wide.

“For one of the most beautiful women.” He smiled. “Thank you for your help. I couldn’t have realized my dream without you.”

Hilda’s return smile froze on her face. He’d used the past tense. But Claude hadn’t been taken care of yet, had he? Her gut clenched as Ehfaz fastened the necklace around her throat. The gems were cool against her skin.

“It has been my pleasure to help,” she said.

Ehfaz chuckled and poured her more brandy. “You know what? I actually believe you. And it has been fun, hasn’t it? You’ve helped me accomplish in weeks what otherwise might have taken me years.”

“Have you figured out how to deal with your half-brother, then?” Hilda took a sip of her brandy. Strange, he hadn’t touched his yet. Oh, no. She put down her glass as a cold sweat pricked her underarms.

“I have.” Ehfaz reclined on the cushions, fingers laced over his stomach. “I’ve tried to kill him so many times over the years. Poisoning, convenient accidents, outright assassination attempts…and he’s managed to escape each time. When he ran away to Fódlan, I thought I was finally rid of him.”

Ehfaz smiled and shook his head. “And then he came back. With you. It made me realize that before, Khalid had only ever had himself to protect. He could afford to be reckless when it was his own life on the line. But if he finally had friends, well, that was a liability. At first, I thought you’d be the one to target, but then you two had your falling out. I was ready to dismiss you, but then I saw the way you used your body as a tool, and I knew there was more to you than met the eye.”

“You’re very sharp,” Hilda said, proud that her voice remained steady.

He chuckled. “Such spirit, even now. I’m so happy to have met you, Hilda. These past few weeks have been some of the most rewarding of my life.”

Hilda wasn’t particularly pleased to hear that, but she smiled anyway.

“Even now, you hold such poise, such polish. Khalid was a fool to choose the Nasir woman over you.” Ehfaz sighed. “But he did, and now the poor girl will have to pay the price. She’s the one I’ll use, you see. I know he’ll try to rescue her. He might even value her life above his own. Once he makes that trade, I’ll be the only remaining heir.”

Hilda pressed her lips together to keep from screaming. She knew Claude—even if he knew it was a trap, he’d still try to save his bride. He possessed a dangerous combination of overconfidence and lack of self-worth.

“And me? What will you do with me now that we’ve had our fun?” she asked.

Ehfaz made a sound low in his throat. “You’ll see.”

Hilda waited. He said nothing more.

“See what?” she asked.

“Give it a minute.”

Hilda frowned as she studied his face. As the moments ticked by, her head grew light. She looked at the brandy.

“Sharp as ever,” Ehfaz said. “You’ve figured it out. You really are something. You would have made an excellent queen if you weren’t from Fódlan.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Hilda asked. Her words grew slurred. Stupid poisoned brandy. She slumped to the floor, tongue numb, unable to move.

“You, my dear,” Ehfaz said as she began to lose consciousness, “are going to help me start a war.”


	32. Chapter 32

Claude returned from the wyvern aerie and knocked on Sabiha’s door. Their plans were in place, and all that remained was for them to leave in the dead of night. Luliwa and another wyvern were being readied at that very moment.

No one answered the door. Claude frowned and knocked again. It was still too early for her to be dressing for dinner. Perhaps she was off making last-minute preparations.

Wait—she had mentioned making an appointment with Queen Tiana. The two women had spent little time together despite the fact Sabiha would presumably be marrying into the family. It was just as good an excuse as any for him to visit his mother. It had been a while since he’d seen her. She was just as hands-off as she’d always been.

When he arrived at his parents’ apartments, the guards admitted him immediately. Claude found his mother seated at her writing table, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she peered down at a letter.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Hello to you, too.” She didn’t bother looking up. “But since you asked, I’ve just received two pieces of news.”

Claude flopped into the chair situated at an oblique angle to the desk. “And they are?”

“First, your sister has given up her claim to the throne. No explanation.”

A chill ran from the crown of Claude’s head to the soles of his feet.

“The other is troop movements have increased at Fódlan’s Locket.”

“That’s not particularly news,” Claude said. “Lord Holst often holds exercises there.”

His mother raised her eyebrow, and he shut his mouth.

She sighed. “That’s not the strange part. Someone has been ordering royal troops to gather on our side of the Locket. It wasn’t your father, nor was it Nader. It’s not something Bakur or Dafiya would do without alerting us.”

“Especially not if they were planning to abdicate.” Not that Claude thought their abdications were planned—not by them, at any rate.

“The only one of you children who hasn’t abdicated anything is Ehfaz. Anyway, scouts say Goneril’s forces are moving over to our side from the Locket, but they’re staying in the trees.”

Claude nodded. Holst was holding up his end of the bargain. “I wouldn’t worry about Lord Holst. As long as we have Hilda, he won’t try anything.”

“That was very clever of you, by the way.” His mother finally looked at him over the tops of her glasses. “Did she know she was a hostage?”

“She was _never_ a hostage,” Claude said. “She was always free to do as she pleased.”

“After seeing her put Bakur in his place, I wish you’d planned to marry her. She was all your father could talk about for a week.”

Claude closed his eyes until the sting from her words faded. “Speaking of people I’m supposed to marry, have you seen Sabiha? She mentioned she was going to come visit you.”

“No, I haven’t seen her.” Tiana began to rifle through her papers.

Odd. Sabiha wasn’t exactly the adventurous type. There was no way she’d have set out on her own.

“All right, thanks anyhow. By the way, what are you going to do about those troops at the border?”

“Your father’s looking into the matter.”

Claude stood. That would have to be good enough. He’d put his trust in Holst like he should have in Hilda. The Gonerils would have it covered.

“Thanks, Mother. If you see Sabiha, tell her I’m looking for her.”

Tiana put down her papers, took off her glasses, and looked him in the eyes. “I’m glad you’re getting along with her. Neither your father nor I was certain an arranged marriage was right for you, especially since we fell in love on our own, but the Nasirs were so desperate. Honestly, I expected you to try to weasel out of it by now. I guess you really have grown up.”

“What would you have done if I was already madly in love with someone and wanted to marry them?”

“I would have questioned why you didn’t marry them. Why do you ask?”

Claude sighed. He’d asked himself that question every day since he’d broken up with Hilda. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I know. I’ll see you at dinner, all right?”

“All right.” Tiana put her glasses back on and was engrossed in her papers before Claude had even reached the door.

Claude swore to himself as he made his way back to his room. Dafiya had abdicated, too? Great. Ehfaz must have gotten to her somehow. At least he hadn’t killed her—that seemed more his style. Maybe that was Hilda’s doing, if they were actually in league. Considering how successful Ehfaz had been after so many years of trying, it seemed likely.

When he arrived at his chambers, he had two letters waiting for him. One was from Holst, agreeing to Claude’s plan to help get Sabiha and her lover out of Almyra. Holst also asked why he hadn’t received a wedding announcement or, in fact, any word from Hilda since they’d left. He complained about how all his numerous letters had gone unanswered, and that Claude had better bring her home when he brought Sabiha, otherwise Holst was going to invade. And oh, by the way, just a tiny detail, the war was over, and Dimitri had won.

Claude’s heart leapt at the news of the war only to sink again as the rest of the letter hit home. Hilda hadn’t written Holst? That seemed terribly unlike her. He pushed his misgivings away and looked at the next letter.

It was from Hilda. He blinked away the burning in his eyes as he gazed at her familiar handwriting. It had been so long since he’d spoken to her. The letter was like a meal for a starving man. He devoured it, but instead of feeling fuller with each word, he felt hollower. She outlined her plan to convince his siblings to abdicate and how Ehfaz had contributed, and that she had no idea how to get Ehfaz to abdicate. Ehfaz would be after Claude next, and that even though she suspected she was in danger, Claude was not to worry about her. Ehfaz likely planned to use Hilda against him, and she begged him not to come after her, no matter the cost. Hilda wanted him to live a long, happy life with his new wife, and she was glad they seemed to be so fond of each other. It ended with her telling him she was grateful for the time they’d spent together and that she would always protect him, no matter what. She would be sure he became king and turned his dream into reality even if it meant her life.

The paper rattled in Claude’s hands as he finished the letter. He scrubbed the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath. She still loved him. Her letter had said as much. He was not going to mess things up a second time.

He rushed to her room. An older servant answered the door.

“Is Lady Goneril here?” he asked.

“Did you get the letter I delivered, Your Highness? Miss Hilda was most insistent I deliver it in person, but I did not want to wait. Please forgive my boldness.”

The servant spoke of Hilda like a close friend, not a master. Strange. Something sparkled in the woman’s hair, catching his eye.

“That’s a lovely ornament,” he said. “Where did you get it?”

The old woman’s cheeks turned pink. “The young miss made it for me. She made them for all her servants as well as the cleaning staff. A kind lady, that one.”

Claude swallowed the lump in his throat. Oh, Hilda. He’d wanted to build bridges between their cultures, and here she was, getting a head start on him.

“I take it she’s not in, then?”

“Oh!” The old woman covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I got carried away. No, she isn’t here. She left for an early dinner with Prince Ehfaz.”

An icy fist grabbed Claude’s heart and squeezed. “How long ago would you say that was?”

“An hour, maybe?”

“Thank you,” he said, pulse thundering in his ears. “I appreciate you taking such good care of her.”

The old woman bowed deeply as Claude strode away. The moment he was out of sight, he broke into a run. Servants jumped out of his way as he barreled past. He stopped at his room just long enough to throw on his battle clothes, grab the small pack he’d prepared, and buckled on his sword and full quiver of arrows. Bow in hand, he sprinted to the aerie.

Luliwa was ready when Claude arrived. The wyvern master scowled as he held Luliwa’s halter. “Not good to fly so close to nightfall, and yet so many of you seem to insist.”

Claude stopped in the middle of mounting. “Oh? Who else has departed?”

“Prince Ehfaz. Had a couple ladies with him. One didn’t look so good, seemed kind of drunk.”

“The drunk one, what did she look like?”

“She was that foreign girl, the one with the pink hair.”

Claude gripped the saddle so hard his bones popped. “Send a message to my father immediately. Tell him to call off the troops at the Locket unless he’s ready for war with a united Fódlan.”

The wyvern master gaped at Claude as he vaulted into the saddle. “Do it now, man,” Claude snapped. “Lives are on the line.”

The man scrambled away. Claude took a moment to ensure everything was secure. Then he urged Luliwa forward and took off into the darkening sky.


	33. Chapter 33

Hilda regained full consciousness strapped to the back of a wyvern. A blanket enveloped her, tied by ropes. The blanket and ropes pinned her arms to her sides, but her legs and ankles were free, for all the good it did her while she was aloft. She groaned and raised her head to relieve the pressure. Her face and toes were cold from the altitude. At some point, her hair had come loose, and she spat strands out of her face as she tried to get a glimpse of the land below.

The sun was at its highest point in the sky when her wyvern’s wingbeats began to slow. It lost altitude gradually until it finally landed in a patch of tall grass. A man’s voice called out, and the wyvern lumbered under the cover of some pines.

Hilda’s teeth chattered as her captor untied the ropes lashing her to the saddle and hoisted her down from the animal. “I need to stand up,” she said. “The blood’s pooled in my head. I’m going to throw up.”

“So throw up,” Ehfaz said.

“I’ll be sure to aim for you when I do.”

Ehfaz chuckled and carried her like a sack of potatoes under the trees. He tossed her onto the ground and returned to the wyvern. Hilda squirmed until she got her knees under her and she could finally sit up.

She wasn’t alone. A young woman with dark, wavy hair sat with her wrists tied a few feet away. Claude’s future wife. The woman sobbed, her cheeks windburned and streaked with tears.

“Great, just great,” Hilda murmured to herself. She’d warned Claude to stay away, but there’s no way he would if Ehfaz had stolen his bride. He’d waltz right into this trap.

“Hello,” Hilda said in Almyran. “Your name?”

The woman’s eyebrows rose as she looked at Hilda. “Lady Goneril! You’re not dead!”

“Shh.” Hilda glanced at where Ehfaz was tending to the two wyverns. “Call me Hilda.”

“I’m Sabiha. Oh, what are we going to do? He flew so fast, and I’m terrified of heights. Do you think he’s going to kill us?”

Sabiha continued to babble. Great, she was one of those who ran at the mouth when she was afraid. Hilda didn’t understand a third of what she said, but it probably wasn’t that important.

“Hush,” Hilda said. “I will save us. Just need, uh, no rope around arms?”

Sabiha frowned. Hilda sighed. Her Almyran wasn’t great, but it wasn’t that bad, surely?

“Khalid will come for us,” Sabiha said, lip quivering. “We already had a plan for me to flee Almyra, so I’m sure he was able to follow quickly.”

Hilda had managed to catch most of that. “What plan?”

“We aren’t going to marry each other. I already have a lover, and Khalid is in love with you. We’ve spent weeks making a plan that will let me escape without disgracing my family. We were going to leave last night.”

Two other wyvern riders had landed—likely hired men. Ehfaz was on his way back, so Hilda and Sabiha shut their mouths. So many feelings swirled inside Hilda she thought she might burst. Claude was so handsome and smart and kind she’d just assumed Sabiha would want to marry him. Anger and despair and joy clashed so violently that in the end, Hilda felt ill.

“Untie me,” Hilda said in Fódlish. The way Ehfaz had wrapped her left no possibility of getting her hands free. Since her legs weren’t bound, maybe she could get him in range for a kick.

Ehfaz chuckled. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to give you the slightest chance of overpowering me.”

“Then how will I eat?”

“You think I’d waste food on either one of you?”

Hilda gritted her teeth. What could she do? She and Ehfaz were cut from too similar of cloth to be able to manipulate each other. Using her raw strength and skill was the only way she could win. She had to figure something out—Claude was on his way. She needed to rescue Sabiha and get them out of there before Ehfaz could spring his trap.

“What are you going to do to him?” Hilda asked.

“Worry about yourself first.” Ehfaz smirked. “I’ll leave you dead and broken before Fódlan’s Locket so your brother will retaliate. The fighting will start before Khalid arrives. I’m sure a ‘stray’ arrow will pick him off when he shows up.”

“Then let Sabiha go. She’s served her purpose. She doesn’t even want to marry Khalid.”

Ehfaz shook his head. “No, I think I’ll keep her. Maybe I’ll marry her myself. Wouldn’t hurt to have the backing of the Nasir family.”

“She has to be willing to marry you.”

“I have ways of making sure she’s willing.”

Hilda scowled. It would be super gross, but if he came close enough, she was going to tear his throat out with her teeth. It was better than he deserved. Now was the time to act if he truly was planning on starving them.

Sabiha continued to weep quietly.

That gave Hilda an idea. She burst into tears. Not the restrained, despairing tears of Sabiha, but loud, ugly sobbing. She threw back her head and howled as tears rolled down her face.

“Be quiet,” Ehfaz snapped.

Hilda wailed louder. Usually, merely getting misty eyed worked, but this was no time for half measures. The only person crying had never worked on was Claude.

Ehfaz was no Claude.

“I said shut up,” Ehfaz said, storming over to her.

He raised his hand to strike her, but the second he was in range, she launched herself at him. Her head smacked the underside of his jaw, and he tumbled backward onto the ground. The men at the wyverns turned and drew their bows.

“Run,” Hilda shouted to Sabiha and sprinted away. The blanket reached almost to her knees, but she worked the opening wider. There was no time to look back and see if Sabiha followed. This was likely her only chance to get away. She created the opportunity, and there was nothing else she could do for the other woman.

Thank the goddess it was daytime. It was hard enough to run in a forest, and even more difficult while wrapped in a blanket. Ehfaz had long legs. He’d likely catch up soon. There was no way for her to climb a tree, nowhere to hide. Her head pounded from the poison and the wyvern ride. She forced her feet to move faster. If she stopped, she was dead.

Hilda stumbled as something hit her in the left deltoid. An arrow protruded from the blanket. One of those bastards had shot her! Thank goodness he wasn’t as good of a shot as Claude. She swerved, and another arrow whistled by her ear.

They couldn’t run and shoot at the same time. If she could just avoid the arrows, she might be able to put enough distance between them that Ehfaz couldn’t catch up. An arrow struck the tree beside her. She gasped and ran faster. Another arrow grazed the right side of the blanket, an inch above the rope. Damn it, so close. If she could just get her arms free.

Hilda yelped as she tripped over a root. An arrow sailed over her head—good timing for her fall—but without her hands, it took her a moment to regain her feet. Another arrow hit her in the shoulder blade. Dirt and pine needles filled her mouth as she fell again.

It was all the time Ehfaz needed to catch up. He grabbed the rope, hauled her to her feet, and slapped her so hard across the face she toppled back on the ground.

She spat blood in his face when he hauled her upright again. “Go ahead,” she said. “Kill me now.”

If she was dead, Claude wouldn’t make any stupid decisions when he showed up. Or so she hoped. Assuming he actually did still love her, of course. No matter what, she had to keep him safe. She’d promised, and besides, two countries would benefit from his leadership.

“I would love nothing more,” Ehfaz snarled in her face. “But I know how important you are to Khalid. I know you were going to be wed. Your brother asked about it in every one of his letters. Pity he never got any of yours in return.”

Hilda stared at him.

Ehfaz smiled. “That’s right. Your letters to him were boring and banal—nice work, by the way, you obviously understood you might be spied on—but his…his revealed so much about you. It made it all the easier to play to your weaknesses, to allow you to act the delicate flower while still encouraging you to fight Bakur.”

Damn it, Holst. Then again, she should have done more investigation when she hadn’t received any replies. She’d just assumed her letters might have gotten intentionally lost or that they hadn’t made it over the Locket.

“So, I’m not going to kill you now. No, I think I’ll deliver a mortal wound when he can watch me do it. Then you can watch me kill him. Something romantic in that, no?”

Hilda trembled. She’d played the helpless maiden most of her life, but usually it was an act. The feeling was far more terrifying than she’d ever imagined.

This time, the tears that leaked from her eyes were real.

“Oh, good,” Ehfaz murmured. “You realized there’s no way out of this.”

That didn’t mean she was going to make it easy for him. She went limp. He cursed and struggled with her dead weight as he dragged her back to where he’d picketed the wyverns. She hadn’t run nearly as far as she’d thought. Sabiha, to her chagrin, was still there, although she, too, bore a red mark on her face from being struck. One of the soldiers had her by the arm.

“I’m not going to let you kill me,” Hilda said. “I’ll bite off my tongue and—”

Ehfaz slapped her again. Sabiha gasped.

“I’m not going to give you the chance,” Ehfaz said.

He pulled a bottle out of a saddlebag and uncorked it. Then he pinched Hilda’s nose shut. She tried to hold her breath, but she eventually failed. He poured the liquid into her mouth the moment she gasped for air. She sputtered and choked but accidentally swallowed some. Her eyelids grew heavy.

Ehfaz sneered. “Good night.”

Hilda tumbled into darkness and knew no more.


	34. Chapter 34

“I’m sorry, girl, just a bit more,” Claude shouted to Luliwa as they sped toward Fódlan’s Locket. When he’d brought Hilda to Malzha, he had taken the established route, the one that took three days. The topography lent itself to currents and updrafts that helped wyverns on their way.

That route was also slower.

Claude flew west, parallel to the coast, before turning sharply north. It was more work for a wyvern, but it should cut almost a day off the trip. Most wyverns wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Most wyverns weren’t Luliwa.

There was no point in trying to chase Ehfaz. Almyra was too vast, and even along the usual route, there were too many variations and hiding places to have a hope of finding them. Besides, he knew where his half-brother was going, and he had a pretty good idea of what Ehfaz had planned. If Claude could beat him there—and convince Holst to help—he had a chance for things to go in his favor.

Fódlan’s Locket came into view at dusk on the second day. Luliwa’s ribs heaved beneath him, her wing strokes growing sluggish. “Just a little farther, sweetheart,” he said, patting her scales.

She perked up when she noticed the fortress. It was a place she recognized, since she’d been over it a few times. That was the good news. The bad news was it appeared Fódlan forces were already camped at the foot of the mountains. The Almyran camps were laid out in a way that suggested they were ready to fight.

Claude swore and gave Luliwa the signal to land. She protested, likely wanting to reach the aerie at the Locket, but he forced the issue. He landed a hundred yards from the Fódlan camp and hurried toward its perimeter.

A group of guards stopped him before he came close. Claude put up his hands—he’d left his weapons with Luliwa—and stood still. When the soldiers were near enough, he called out, “Claude von Riegan is here to visit your commanding officer.”

The guards exchanged a confused look, and one of them ran back into camp. Claude waited, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. Every moment spent waiting was a moment he wasn’t helping Hilda.

Holst burst from a tent, pushed past soldiers, and stormed toward Claude. Instead of speaking, he punched Claude in the face. Claude went down with a shout.

“Hello to you too, Holst,” Claude said after he was done moaning with pain.

Veins stood out against Holst’s forehead in the torchlight. “You bastard. Where the fuck is my sister?”

“Long story. The important thing is she’ll likely be here around midmorning tomorrow. I’m pretty sure my half-brother is going to try to sacrifice her to start a war. We need to make sure his plan fails.”

Holst glared at him. “How could you let this happen?”

“It’s…complicated.” Claude winced. Secrets had gotten him into this mess. It was time to tell the truth, to trust. “We sort of broke up when we got to Almyra. And my parents tried to marry me off to another woman.”

“What?” Holst roared.

Claude held up his hands. “Like I said, I’ll explain later, but for right now, the most important thing is saving Hilda.”

“Get your sorry ass in my tent, now. You.” Holst pointed at a soldier. “Bring us food and drink. Claude, you look like shit. How long have you been riding?”

“If I look like shit, it’s because you just punched me in the face.”

“It’s the least you deserve.”

Claude couldn’t argue with that.

Holst dismissed his officers once they arrived at his tent. Claude sat on a camp stool and gave Holst a quick summary of what had happened as a healer tended to his face. The refreshments arrived, and Claude stuffed himself while Holst fumed.

“And now my half-brother is going to try to use the noblewoman and your sister to get me killed and start a war between our countries,” Claude finished.

“Your parents condoned this?”

“If they did, there would be a lot more troops out there. Even so, your soldiers shouldn’t be this far into Almyra.”

“Then your brother shouldn’t have kidnapped my sister. My gut told me something was wrong when I got your letter but none from her.”

“Does King Dimitri know you’re ready to start a war?”

“I sent him a note.”

Claude sighed and shook his head. “That doesn’t matter now. I need to make a visit to the Almyrans. What I’d like from you and your soldiers is to focus on helping Hilda.”

“How do you even know she’s still alive?” Holst asked with a frown.

“Because my brother likes to make people suffer, and he’ll want you as angry and irrational as possible. Watching your sister die from falling off a wyvern would do the trick, don’t you think?”

Holst’s mouth flattened into a line.

Claude stood and put his hand on Holst’s shoulder. “I’m going to save her. But I might need you to save me.”

Holst nodded.

“Thanks.” Claude smiled. “Can I borrow a horse?”

Holst pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. We’ll take care of your wyvern. Just hurry.”

“Best brother ever. Way better than my biological ones.” Claude clapped him on the shoulder and hurried out of the tent.

Once Claude had his borrowed mount, he retrieved his sword and headed not for the main Almyran force but northward. Night had fully fallen by the time he reached the squad of soldiers hidden in the trees along the base of the mountains. The moment he arrived, the rustle of leaves reached his ears, and arrowheads glinted in the moonlight.

Claude held up his hands. “I’m here for Sergeant Esfir Jahin.”

Footsteps faded into the darkness, and a few minutes later, a tall, lean woman with her lustrous dark hair pulled up in a ponytail appeared. “I am she. Who are you, and why are you here?”

“I’m Khalid. I was supposed to have Sabiha with me, but something happened.”

The sergeant and her troops immediately sank to one knee, heads bowed and a fist pressed to the ground. “My prince. I apologize.”

“I’m afraid,” Claude said with a sigh, “that I’m the one who should apologize. I let things go sideways. But I have a plan. You’re a wyvern squad, right? Do you have a really big net? If not, I’ll get one for you.”

He outlined his plan, and once he was certain the sergeant understood, he rode for the main Almyran encampment. The captain confirmed that they’d marched on Ehfaz’s orders, who had acted with the king’s seal. Claude sighed. Seals were so easy to forge.

“Well, I’m here in person,” Claude said. “I’m taking command.”

The captain opened his mouth to object, but Claude held up his hand and drew his sword.

“We can do this the old-fashioned way,” Claude said. “Are you really going to fight me for it?”

The captain bowed his head.

Claude sheathed his weapon. “That’s what I thought. Tomorrow, likely around midmorning, we’ll see at least two wyverns arrive. I’m sending in a small squad to intercept. I’ll be up there, too. What I want you to do is take out the wyverns, support me and the squad, and capture Prince Ehfaz.”

“Your Highness?”

“He kidnapped my bride, Captain.” Both the true and the false. “Not even a prince should be above the law.”

“And the Fódlan forces, sir?”

“Ehfaz has General Goneril’s sister. If your sister was in danger, wouldn’t you go after her? At any rate, I order you not to engage. I’ve spoken with General Goneril, and he will not be attacking our forces. His sole objective is to retrieve his sister. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Claude conducted a review of the troops, taking the time to stop and exchange a few words with each of the soldiers. Soon every person in camp knew what Ehfaz had done. Many were offended, and none of them appreciated being tricked.

It was dawn by the time he returned Holst’s horse. He checked on Luliwa, who was resting peacefully, then ate breakfast with Holst and went over contingencies. A few hours later, all the preparations had been made. There was nothing left to do but wait. Claude stood next to Luliwa, hand on her flank, and watched the sky. Every second felt like a year. He wasn’t the praying type, but he sent a prayer to every god in Almyra—and one to Sothis—that things would work out.

Three dots appeared in the sky a few hours later. They were farther north than Claude had anticipated, angling for Fódlan’s Locket. Claude climbed up on Luliwa and took to the air.

The beating of Claude’s heart competed with the roar of the wind in his ears. Hilda was near, finally within his reach. Soon he would end this, lay his soul at her feet, and find out if a future together was still possible.

He hadn’t been expecting three wyverns, and it appeared there was a rider on each. A curse sprang from his lips as they split up. Hilda was on one, Sabiha on the other, and no way to know which was which. Wait—two were heading directly for the fortress, while the other one flew straight toward him. Luliwa was nothing if not recognizable. The other rider knew it was him, which meant they had something they thought he’d want.

They were wrong. “Sorry, Sabiha,” he said, turning Luliwa toward the Locket. Her powerful wingbeats propelled them forward, and they closed the distance quickly. As they drew near, it became apparent that the two riders were dressed identically.

Claude’s eyesight had always been excellent, and Hilda’s curves were difficult to hide even in a disguise. He readied his bow, aiming at the other wyvern. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he urged Luliwa into a roll. An arrow sliced the side of his skull. As she righted herself, he spotted another wyvern. Damn it all, two against one were bad odds when everyone had bows.

At least he caught sight of Jahin’s squad intercepting the lone wyvern out of the corner of his eye. Two of the squad went down—there must be a second rider with Sabiha. Six of the squad had the net stretched beneath the wyvern. Sabiha would be terrified, but she’d live.

He couldn’t say the same for him or Hilda.

Luliwa dodged the next few arrows. They drew nearer to the Locket—if they didn’t gain altitude soon, they’d smack right against the walls. The rider behind him must have possessed an enormous quiver, because the arrows kept raining down.

Claude swore and urged Luliwa into a climb. She soared into the sky. Claude drew his bow and aimed at Hilda’s captor. His arrow struck the soldier the same time the soldier fired on Hilda. The enemy’s corpse fell through the air as the wyvern peeled away. Because of Claude’s shot, the enemy’s arrow missed its mark, sinking into the flank of Hilda’s wyvern. Her beast roared and climbed higher. Its roll dislodged her from the saddle, and she went tumbling through the sky.

Her scream cut Claude in two. He shouted at Luliwa and urged her forward. No, this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t lose her when he was this close. His boots slid a little on the saddle as he stood.

“Catch us,” he said to Luliwa and vaulted off the wyvern into the air.


	35. Chapter 35

Hilda screamed as the wyvern disappeared from beneath her. Wind whipped past her ears. Although she wore borrowed leathers instead of a blanket, her hands were still bound behind her back. Tears leaked from her eyes. Her breath ran out. It was taking a lot longer to fall than she’d thought, although the ground was still rushing up far too quickly.

This was it. She flattened her body out as best she could, as Claude had taught her if she ever fell from a wyvern. It was pointless, though. She was going to die. She never even got to see Claude again.

“Hilda!”

Hilda craned her neck. A figure dove toward her from above, head pointed downward, limbs tucked in like an arrow. He was catching up.

“Claude?”

“Hold on, I’m coming!”

Somehow, he’d drawn even with her. He reached for her and missed. A sob ripped free from her throat, lost on the wind. He bared his teeth and extended his arm. This time, he snagged hold of her jerkin. His knife slashed through the ropes binding her. Gloved hands grabbed hers the moment she was free.

“Spread yourself out,” he shouted.

Hilda obeyed. Her mind was blank, her eyes frozen wide. The wind tore her breath away as they fell.

A huge pale shape streaked past them. The moment it overtook them, Claude grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his arms. He pointed his legs downward as a white wyvern snapped open its wings below. A grunt left him as he landed in the saddle, her in his lap.

“I’ve got you,” Claude said into her ear, holding her so tightly it hurt. “I’m never going to let you go. You’re safe now.”

Hilda threw her arms around him and burst into tears.

“I’m sorry, my love, I’m sorry,” he murmured over and over again as Pearl banked away from the mountains.

Hilda went to bury her face in his shoulder, but something glinted out of the corner of her eye. Claude grunted as an arrow sprouted from his back, then another. One sped toward Hilda, but he curled around her and took it in the meat of his shoulder. Pearl roared and wheeled around. Another wyvern approached. Claude drew his sword and batted another arrow out of the sky before it could hit them. There was no way he could use his own bow, not with her in his lap.

“Let me go,” Hilda said.

Claude looked at her, expression grim. “I’d rather die.”

He squeezed with his thighs, and Pearl whirled again, this time into a dive. The speed pressed a shriek out of Hilda’s lungs. Claude’s strong arms locked around her. A ballista bolt whizzed past, but it was going the other direction. Another bolt flew by, then another. Hilda peeked at the ground. Mounted soldiers wearing Goneril colors streamed beneath them. The pursuing wyvern bellowed and fell out of the sky like a stone.

Pearl landed behind the troops swarming the fallen wyvern. Hilda trembled in Claude’s arms. Her teeth chattered. His hand smoothed her hair. He murmured in her ear, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“Hilda.”

She blinked. His hands rested on either side of her face. His green eyes peered into hers.

“Hilda. Can you hear me?”

Her mind was blank, still full of rushing wind and the approaching ground. Tears leaked from her eyes.

“Shit.” Claude shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. “You’re all right, my heart. We’re on the ground.”

Hilda raised her hand and brushed her fingers against the blood caking his hair. He had a nasty cut on his scalp just above his ear, and blood soaked his sleeve from the arrow he’d taken for her.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered.

He covered her hand with his and pressed his cheek against her palm, his eyes closed. “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be fine.”

“Hilda!”

Her head snapped up. A horse galloped toward them. When it pulled up, its rider leaped from the saddle and tore off its helm. Holst rushed toward her and took her into his arms when Claude handed her down, wincing with teeth gritted.

“Holst,” Hilda said, sobbing. “I was so scared. I thought I was going to die, and there was nothing I could do!”

“I know, sugar. I’m so sorry. I have the bad man who did this to you. You’ll be all right. He’ll never hurt you again.”

Claude slid off of Pearl and stood beside them. Holst glanced at him and addressed a nearby soldier. “Get a healer. These two need attention.”

The soldier ran off only to be replaced by another. “Sir! What would you like us to do with the captive?”

“He’s still alive?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Claude, the second you stop bleeding, go tell your troops to meet us halfway.”

Claude hesitated, his gaze locked on Hilda. “All right.”

The healer arrived and patched them up. Holst put Hilda up on his horse and mounted behind her. Claude looked up at her. Slowly, he reached out his hand. Hilda gazed at it. The storm in her heart roiled and thundered. The light began to fade from Claude’s eyes. He moved as if to retract his hand, but Hilda brushed her fingers against his. He snatched her hand, closed his eyes, and pressed her knuckles against his lips.

“Later,” Holst said.

Claude took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll be back soon, my heart.”

Holst rode away before Hilda could watch Claude mount, although she caught a glimpse of a streak of white rising into the sky.

“Tell me what happened,” Holst said.

Hilda tried to speak, but her voice got caught in her throat. It was still too fresh. She dissolved into tears.

“I understand.” Holst kissed the top of her head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Before she knew it, she was in his tent. Time seemed to start and stop in bursts with nothing to connect them. A female soldier helped her use a bucket and cloth to bathe. Someone washed her hair. Somehow, she ended up dressed in a spare, ill-fitting uniform. Food and drink were pressed into her hands as she sat on Holst’s cot, but she wasn’t sure what to do with them. She’d had nothing but water for days.

“I’m going to kill him,” Holst said, voice flat, when he re-entered the tent.

“Don’t hurt Claude.” The words were barely more than a whisper.

Holst’s features softened. “He’s not the one I’m talking about.”

“Is…is the other woman all right?” Hilda asked.

“Other woman?”

“Claude’s wife.”

Holst’s nostrils flared as he scowled. “If you mean his fake betrothed, then I don’t know. I’m not sure I care.”

Hilda’s head drooped. Hopefully, Sabiha had survived.

“Oh, sugar.” Holst pulled a stool next to her cot and took her hand. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that alone.”

She _had_ been alone, for the first time in her life. Up until she broke up with Claude, she’d always had people supporting her. There were people she could depend on. But Claude had lived like that his entire life. Sure, his parents and Nader had cared about him, but nobody looked out for him. No wonder it was so hard for him to trust people. She only endured it for a month, and she found it hard to trust again.

At least now she knew what she could do when she was left to her own devices. Not that she ever wanted to work that hard again. Still, it was comforting to know she could handle herself, even if having friends to rely on was better.

Holst picked up the bowl of porridge and spoon-fed Hilda. “I’m taking you home,” he said. “When we get there, I’m going to spoil you rotten. You won’t have to lift a finger.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Holst smiled, expression soft. “I’m proud of you. You did well. If you ever wanted to become a queen, I think you’d be fantastic.”

Hilda tried to smile, but tears rolled down her face instead. Holst set the porridge aside and held her until she stopped weeping. She was sick of crying, but she didn’t have the strength to put on a cheerful mask.

“Knock knock,” Claude said from outside.

Holst shot Hilda a look, eyebrow raised. She nodded and wiped her eyes.

“Come in,” Holst said.

Claude didn’t appear to have taken any time to tidy himself. Hilda didn’t care. Even though her heart hadn’t yet healed, he was still the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

“The Almyrans are in position,” Claude said. “Can we expect your troops soon?”

Holst’s expression grew cold. “We’ll be there directly. Do you want to come, sugar?”

“Yes,” Hilda whispered. She couldn’t bear the thought of being away from her brother.

Holst carried her out of the tent and put her on his horse. Claude followed on Pearl as their troops met the Almyrans. Their leader stood in the middle, arms crossed over his chest. Sabiha sat on a camp stool, holding hands with the tall, rangy woman by her side. Sabiha gave Hilda a weak smile. Hilda managed to return it.

A man’s screams cut through the air as one of Holst’s soldiers dragged Ehfaz into the center and dumped him on the ground. It appeared he’d broken both legs when Holst’s troops took down his wyvern. Hilda was sure he was the one who’d hung back and shot at Claude. Ehfaz wasn’t the type to endanger himself. Coward.

Claude stepped forward. “Prince Ehfaz, you are charged with kidnapping and abusing these two women as well as attempting to incite war.” He repeated the phrase in Almyran.

Ehfaz’s face twisted in rage as he snarled something at Claude. Hilda couldn’t understand any of the words, but Claude’s expression grew stonier. “Take him away,” he said.

The Fódlan soldiers who held Ehfaz hoisted him up, but Holst stopped them with a hand. Silence fell as he approached the fallen prince. “You used my letters against her?” Holst said softly. Hilda leaned against Holst’s horse nearby, and she could hardly hear her brother speak.

“It was easy.” Ehfaz laughed, which turned into a cough. Blood stained his teeth. “She wanted to help Khalid so badly she was blind to anything else.”

Holst nodded. He made as if to walk away but turned, drew his axe, and buried it in Ehfaz’s chest all in one motion. Startled cries rose from the Almyrans, followed by angry ones.

“Silence,” Holst boomed, glaring at the Almyran troops as he tore his axe free. “It was my right. I claim a blood price for what he tried to do to my sister and country, and now it’s paid. Be satisfied that’s the extent of my vengeance.”

Claude gazed down at his half-brother. His expression held no anger, only pity as Ehfaz passed on. He knelt and closed Ehfaz’s eyes.

“I order the Almyran troops to consider this matter closed.” Claude repeated it in Almyran. He gave a few more commands, and some of his troops bundled the body away. Sabiha rose from her stool and tottered over to Claude, the tall woman helping to steady her. They exchanged words, and Sabiha kissed Claude once on each cheek. Then she and the tall woman walked hand-in-hand back toward the Almyran camp.

“Thanks for saving me the trouble of having to secretly kill him,” Claude said to Holst when he returned. “He was the sort who would never give up.”

“And your betrothed?” Holst asked. “What about her?”

A crafty smile crossed Claude’s face. “That actually worked out better than expected. Since Esfir saved Sabiha’s life, the Nasirs owe her. She can pretty much ask for anything she wants, including Sabiha’s hand in marriage, and they can’t refuse her.”

His gaze met Hilda’s. “It doesn’t make up for the mistakes I’ve made, but I hope it’s a start. I love you and—”

“Later.” Holst cleaned and secured his axe before helping Hilda back up on the horse. “I’m taking her home now. You can do what you like.”

They rode away before Claude could answer. Hilda glanced over her shoulder as he grew smaller and smaller. Soon she could no longer see him at all.


	36. Chapter 36

Holst rode with Hilda to Fódlan’s Locket, where they spent the night. Her brother sat vigil by her bed as she fell into a fitful sleep. When she awoke, Claude was there instead. His torso rested on the bed, his collar unbuttoned. A lock of hair lay across his face. She resisted the urge to brush it away and tried to fall back asleep.

She didn’t remember much of the journey home, only that she was grateful to arrive. Her parents coddled her, and they even welcomed Claude into their home again, albeit a bit stiffly. Hilda spent a lot of time in the bath. She couldn’t seem to get clean.

Claude knocked on her door one evening, wearing Fódlan-style trousers and boots, his usual sash, and a plain white shirt open at the throat. He’d shaved so his beard was the same as it had been when they’d left Derdriu. He bore her dinner tray. A pink rose sat in a small vase next to a spiced fish pie, a salad, and a slice of cake. A green glass vial and a goblet of watered wine rounded out the tray’s contents.

“Hi,” he said softly as he set down the tray. “Do you mind if we talk?”

Hilda hadn’t done much talking in the two days since their return. “All right.”

He handed her the vial. “Here, drink this first.”

“What is it?”

“An antidote. You were poisoned, and if he used what I think he did, it doesn’t leave the system easily.”

Hilda hesitated.

“I know it’s hard to trust me.”

“You jumped off a wyvern for me.”

Claude shook his head. “I should have had your back the entire time, like you had mine. It’s just…no one’s ever chosen me. No one’s ever been in my corner. Even when the Riegans made me heir, it was because of my blood and nothing to do with who I am. I guess I didn’t believe I was important enough to warrant being chosen. I kept expecting you to change your mind, for it to be too much work.”

Hilda took the vial and swallowed the contents. It was even more bitter than a vulnerary, and she gagged. Even so, it called up a memory of better times, when she had pretended to be his wife.

“I should have warned you,” he said, “you’ll probably have to go to the bathroom a lot for a couple of days.”

“Seriously?”

He chuckled. “Sorry. For the side effects, not for helping you get better. Here, let me get some food into you.”

Claude cut up her meal and fed her. If he stole a few bites for himself, she didn’t mind. It was worth the price to be waited on hand and foot. When they were finished, a charged silence fell.

“These aren’t excuses.” Claude fiddled with the stitching on her blanket. “But I owe you an explanation and an apology.”

Hilda waited.

He took a deep breath. “You already know I was worried you wouldn’t want to be queen. I thought if you had time to think about it, you’d realize your mistake and leave me. Then, when Holst mentioned you’d be in danger in Almyra if you were attached to me, I feared for your safety. I wasn’t wrong—I foiled three assassination attempts and four poisonings for Sabiha, not that she ever realized. I thought I could use her as a decoy to keep you safe, take advantage of her father’s power to secure my position, and then weasel out of the marriage to be with you. It made sense at the time, but I obviously wasn’t thinking straight, and I didn’t take your feelings—or Sabiha’s, really—into account. I was a selfish, greedy bastard. I made things worse when I wanted to make things better. I hurt you, which is unforgivable. I’m so, so sorry.”

Claude rested his elbows on his knees and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. A sob left him, then another. Hilda watched as he wept, tears rolling down her own face.

“The stupid thing is,” he said through his tears, “I thought I could still pull it off even after I hurt you. Then you walked in on me and her—and that was _not_ what it looked like—and I realized what I had done. I saw you with Ehfaz, who’s always been my biggest rival, and I knew I’d put you in worse danger than I’d ever imagined. And yet you still tried to help me. I hurt you, and you still had my back. My parents are out of heirs now. I’m the only one left. I’m going to be king, and it’s thanks to you.”

“Now you can make your dream come true,” she murmured.

“No, I can’t. You were always part of my dream. I still love you. I still want to spend my life with you. I understand if you want me to leave and never return. But I’d like to try to mend things between us. The throne isn’t worth nearly as much without you to share it with me.”

Hilda took his hand. “I wish things had gone differently in Almyra, but I don’t regret going. I feel like I understand you better now. I’m still very upset, but I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“Does that mean you’re willing to try to patch things up?”

“I suppose it does.”

Claude pressed her hand to his lips and closed his eyes.

“But first,” she said, sliding out of bed, “I need to visit the privy. That stuff you gave me works fast.”

Claude took the dinner tray and left her in peace. He returned a little while later with a pot of tea and two cups. “You have to stay hydrated while the antidote cleans you out. I’ve asked the kitchen to make sure you get lots of nourishing broths.”

“Broths are _so_ exciting.”

He snorted and poured her a cup of tea. She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent. It was rose petal blend, her favorite.

“I’m planning to stay until I’m sure the poison is out of your system,” he said, “but then I need to go back to Almyra. I’m sure things are a mess right now. With Sabiha as witness, I doubt my parents are calling for Holst’s head for killing my brother, but I’d like to go make sure. And I need to mourn him. Part of me wishes Ehfaz hadn’t had to die.”

Hilda nodded. The way her heart sank was indication enough that she wanted to try to make things work with Claude. “Will you ever come back?”

“Absolutely. As soon as I’m sure everything is squared away.”

“All right.”

“Hilda.” Claude took her hand and gazed into her eyes, expression earnest. “I can’t promise I’ll never have secrets, but I swear to all the gods I’ll never keep them from you.”

“You don’t have to tell me what you’re getting me for my birthday. Surprise parties are also acceptable. But if you ever keep anything else from me….”

He smiled, eyes moist. “I promise.”

Silence fell and lingered for a moment. Claude’s brow furrowed. “Is it okay if I give you a hug?”

A hug sounded really good. Hilda nodded. He gathered her into his arms, clutching her like a drowning man. She buried her nose in the spot where his neck met his shoulder. His familiar, comforting scent enveloped her.

Then she had to get up and use the privy again.

Three days later, Hilda was feeling better. Her chest hurt as she stood next to Pearl in the drive to say goodbye to Claude. Holst and her family had already said farewell and gone back inside.

Claude tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back soon. Two weeks, tops.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I’ll even bring back your things.”

Hilda nodded. “I think maybe now I want all those letters and gifts you kept giving me.”

“Hey.” Claude hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. “I love you. I’ll come back.”

He kissed her, just the barest brush of lips, before he climbed up on Pearl. Hilda retreated to the entrance of the manor. Claude waved, blew her another kiss, and rose into the sky. She waved until she could no longer see the white speck of wyvern against the blue.

For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile spread across Hilda’s face.


	37. Chapter 37

As Claude had feared, things were a bit of a mess when he got back to Almyra.

“Where have you been?” his father snapped as Claude strolled into the audience chamber.

“Smoothing things over with Lord Goneril.”

“You didn’t try to stop him from killing your brother?”

“Holst claimed a blood price. You know what Ehfaz did. Besides, you always made each of us look out for ourselves. It’s not my fault he fell short.”

His father scowled as he put down the scroll. He appeared old, worn out, grief-stricken. The sunlight streaming in through the window and the yellow stone of the walls gave the chamber a warm atmosphere, but cold settled into Claude’s bones.

“You probably already guessed that the Nasirs broke off the engagement,” his father said with a sigh. “Your mother thought it was probably your doing. She said you had a woman on the side?”

“Sabiha helped. She didn’t want to marry me, either.”

“You could have just told me you didn’t want to marry her, you know, and you _definitely_ should have told me you were giving them a loan.”

“I needed to have their backing in my bid for the throne. Although that’s not much of an issue anymore.”

“That’s right,” his father said. “Congratulations. You’re going to be the next king of Almyra. Don’t get too excited—I have a few more years left in me yet.”

Claude smiled and waited for the exultation to set in. It didn’t. Hilda was the reason he was heir. He wouldn’t be satisfied until they were married and took the throne together.

“So, who’s the lady?” his father asked.

“Hilda Goneril.”

His father dropped his pen and cursed as ink splattered across his papers.

“What?” Claude grinned, and this time it came from the heart. “You married for love. Hilda will make an incomparable queen. She already had half the palace eating out of her hand, and she didn’t even speak the language.”

“She just…she’s so unlike your mother. Although she did hand Bakur’s ass to him. That was quite a thing to watch.”

“No, she’s not like Mother. And I’m not like you.”

“True.” His father sighed again. “You were always my favorite, though. I’m glad you’re going to be king after me.”

Claude’s eyes burned as his hands curled into fists. _Then why didn’t you help me? Why didn’t you protect me? That’s what people do when they love each other._ It wouldn’t be the same with him and his children. He would treasure each and every one of them and be sure they knew it every day. Hilda had grown up spoiled rotten, and yet look what she’d accomplished. He’d have traded his family relationships for hers in a heartbeat, although maybe that was his soft Fódlan side talking.

“You bury him already?” Claude asked.

“Not yet. They just finished the embalming. Funeral is day after tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you there.”

Claude turned to go.

“Khalid?” His father smiled. “Welcome back.”

Claude waved and made his way to Hilda’s quarters. Her maids were there, pleased to hear she was safe. They turned over her belongings willingly. When they asked if she’d ever come to visit, he shot them his best cryptic smile.

Back at his rooms, he rifled through his possessions. Among them, he found the fake wedding ring he’d given her over two months ago. His fingers curled around it as he vowed she’d be wearing a real one soon enough. Finally, he located the bracelet she’d made for him. He’d never bothered to exchange bracelets with Sabiha—that should have been his parents’ first clue. Hilda’s bracelet was among his things, too. Good.

Two days later, he stood with his family in the death god’s temple. Ehfaz’s body lay in a stone sarcophagus on a golden stand before the altar. The priest droned on and on. Claude thought back to all the times Ehfaz had hurt him—or tried to hurt him—growing up. All of it paled in the face of the rage that flared when he thought about what Ehfaz had done to Hilda. If the man had played his cards right, he might have married her himself and taken everything Claude ever wanted. Thank the gods Ehfaz hadn’t been as clever as he thought he was.

His parents shed tears before the sarcophagus. They were the only ones. Claude shook his head. He hoped he’d have more true mourners when he passed.

“Here,” Claude said to Dafiya at the post-service memorial feast. He handed her a letter from Hilda, who had specifically asked him to deliver it to his sister and reinforce the message inside.

Dafiya scowled and snatched it out of his hand. “Come to rub my nose in your ascension?”

“Hardly. I fully plan to involve you once I’m king. You’re an outstanding commander. No, this note is from Lady Goneril.”

Dafiya’s eyebrows rose. She tore open the letter. Her eyes grew moist as she read, but she quickly blinked her tears away.

“Tell your spouses it was all a vicious lie by a vicious man,” Claude said. “Show them Hilda’s letter.”

“I lost the baby anyway,” Dafiya said softly, her expression broken. “I don’t think my husband can…. But my spouses are what matter.”

Claude put his arms around Dafiya and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry. You don’t need a baby to make you happy.”

“I know, you idiot.”

“If you ever need anything, I hope you’ll ask me.”

She pushed away and glared at him. “Why? After all I’ve done to you?”

“You’ve been an asshole to me my whole life, true.” Claude shrugged. “But you weren’t evil. And you know what? You’re still my sister. We’re adults now and should be able to put things behind us.”

“Easy for you to say, now that you’re going to be king.”

Claude smiled. “You’re not wrong. But that means your brother’s king. Might not be as good as being queen, for which you have our dear departed brother to thank, but it’s the next best thing.”

“We’ll see.” Dafiya sniffed, but her expression wasn’t as hostile as before. “Give Lady Goneril my regards.”

His mission accomplished, Claude continued to mingle. Bakur wasn’t going to be his friend until he could beat him in a fight. That nut was going to remain Hilda’s to crack, he supposed. Other than his parents, there was no one he truly cared to see.

The next day, his parents officially proclaimed him the crown prince. Nader attended that celebratory feast—with Judith, no less. It was good to catch up with her on the comings and goings of the former Alliance. She didn’t have much news on the former Golden Deer who weren’t nobles, but Lorenz sounded like he’d settled in fine, and young man named Linhardt had shown up at Margrave Edmund’s estate, looking for Marianne. Lysithea had been summoned to stay there shortly after. Claude wondered if Hilda had heard the news.

Once the festivities were over, Claude headed for the capital. It had been seven years since he’d last flown over the graceful spires and onion-shaped domes of Qalb. His rooms in the palace were just the way he remembered them. All his books, old toys, chemistry sets, magnifying lenses…it was as if he’d run away to the Alliance just moments ago.

He was no longer that boy. In the intervening years, he’d fought a war, made friends, fallen in love. He’d returned a crown prince. Everything he’d ever wanted was within his grasp.

Almost.

Once Claude had rested, he called upon the Nasirs. Sabiha’s family lived in an expansive mansion on the northern side of the city. The door attendants led him inside and seated him in a grand room hung with draperies and stuffed with gold ornaments. If the general was hurting from a financial perspective, it certainly didn’t show. Claude glanced around. Perhaps he should reconsider the interest rate on the loan he’d extended the family.

“Khalid!”

Claude turned as Sabiha entered. She rushed across the room and threw her arms around him, almost knocking him over. Just as suddenly, she pushed away and blushed.

“I mean, Your Highness. Congratulations on becoming heir.”

Claude smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “We both know I had very little to do with that.”

“I don’t know. You foiled Ehfaz’s plan all by yourself and stopped a war before it started.”

It sounded more impressive when she put it like that, so he let himself bask in her praise.

“So, how are you?” he asked as she called for refreshments and bade him sit on a chair padded with silk cushions.

“Very well, thank you.” Her cheeks grew red, and she held up her wrist. A turquoise bangle glittered against her skin.

Claude grinned. “Congratulations. I take it your father had no objections to Esfir once she saved your life?”

Sabiha nodded. “We’re going to be very happy. He’s going to make her his heir, since she proved her valor and commanded her squad so well. She’s even going to get a promotion.”

He leaned back in his chair. That was a weight off his shoulders. At least something had worked out, even if his original plan had gone awry. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“How’s Lady Goneril?”

Claude thought a moment. “Healing.”

“She was so brave.” Sabiha’s eyes sparkled. “Did you know she tried to help me escape?”

“I didn’t, but I’m not surprised.” Claude’s heart clenched. Hilda hadn’t told him she’d tried to save Sabiha. Back then, she’d thought Claude intended to marry Sabiha. Hilda had her flaws—many of them—but he still didn’t deserve her.

“I think she will make an excellent queen,” Sabiha said with a soft smile.

Their conversation lapsed into the mundane after that, and Claude took his leave an hour later. A visit to the city’s finest bazaars was in order, which took up the rest of his afternoon. He spent the evening packing for his journey. Qalb was even farther from Fódlan’s Locket than Malzha was.

The flight to House Goneril took the expected time, but it felt much longer. Every beat of Claude’s heart was for Hilda. It had been so long since he’d held her that his body ached. When he finally landed in the manor’s drive, he was able to breathe at last.

Servants led Luliwa away as Claude was escorted inside to the sitting room. He paced as he waited. His heart jumped in his chest when the door finally opened.

“You came back,” Hilda said.

It took all his discipline not to sweep her into his arms—the expression on her face was too fragile to risk it. “Staying away was the hard part. My business there is finished, for now.”

Quiet fell as they gazed at each other. Silences between them had never been awkward before their split. Would they ever be comfortable again?

“Tell me what to do to make this better,” he said softly, taking her hands. “Flowers, romantic dinners, extravagant gifts, poetry…I’ll even compose songs for you, if you like, but I warn you, I have terrible pitch.”

Hilda cocked her head, considering. “Tell me about your whole life. I want to know all of it.”

“Only if you tell me about yours.”

“Deal.”

She looped her arm through his, and they went for a stroll in the garden until dinner. They ate alone in her room. It was agony not to push her down on the bed and kiss her, but he didn’t dare.

The next day was the same, and the day after that. They went for rides, for flights, even to a seedy tavern in the town to dance to raucous music. The entire time, they talked. He told her about how happy he was when Luliwa hatched, because he finally had a friend. Then she started to sleep on his head, which was cute at first but became less cute when she got bigger. He’d sneak out to the wyvern aerie sometimes and sleep with her, especially after one of his siblings had a go at him.

Hilda told him about her family’s expectations and the time Holst lost half his squad. She saw how it destroyed him—the good, kind brother who adored her—and she never wanted to feel like that. Better to have no one expect anything of her. But like her brother, she loved deeply, and she couldn’t abandon those who mattered to her.

Claude smiled. He’d experienced that firsthand.

At first, she only took his arm when they walked. Then they held hands. When they sat on benches, she began to lean her head on his shoulder. After a couple of weeks of each other’s company, as Claude bid her goodnight, he leaned in. Hilda didn’t pull away as he drew closer and tentatively brushed his mouth against hers. A tiny sigh left her, and he gently kissed her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck. He kissed her again, hands on her hips.

“I love you every day,” he murmured. “I’ve never stopped.”

“I’ve never stopped loving you, either,” she said.

Claude was unable to sleep that night. It was time. He doubted delaying would change her answer.

The next evening, before dinner, they took another walk in the gardens. He’d shaved and done his hair just so. When they stopped at a bench beneath a willow tree, he put the lantern on the ground, waited until she sat, and then sank down on one knee. She inhaled sharply as he took her hand.

“Hilda, my life, my love, will you marry me?” He pulled a ring from his pocket. The emerald gleamed in a golden band, small black star gemstones on either side.

“Oh, Claude.”

He frowned. “Hmm. That one won’t do? Perhaps you like this one better?”

He pulled out a second ring, a pink oval diamond surrounded by tiny rubies.

She stared at the rings. “Two?”

“Not enough? You drive a hard bargain, my lady.”

Claude pulled out a third ring. This one was a band set with gems in every color of the rainbow. “The one in the middle changes from red to green,” he said.

Hilda laughed as he produced six more rings and slid them onto her fingers. Only her wedding ring finger remained bare.

“Sorry, I needed my hands free.” He pulled out the bracelet he’d originally given to her. “I need to return this to you.”

Her eyes grew moist.

“No,” he said with a sigh. “You’re right. That one’s too big for a traditional Fódlan engagement ring. But don’t worry, I have just the thing.”

He took out the simple, gold-plated wedding band he’d first given her when they left Derdriu. He’d slipped his own on when he’d reached into his pocket. It glinted in the lantern light. “Hilda, will you run away with me and be my wife?”

Her eyes overflowed. She held out her hand, and he slid the band onto her finger. “Yes,” she said.

Hilda flung herself into his arms and buried her face against his neck. He closed his eyes, tears leaking out the corners. The gaping hole in his heart finally closed. He took a shuddering breath, inhaling the scent of her.

“I love you,” he said into her hair.

“I love you, Khalid,” she replied in Almyran.

Claude jerked back and stared at her.

A sly smile crossed her face. “What, you didn’t think I was going to learn your language?”

“I just…” His voice thickened, and he had to clear his throat. “Hearing you…”

Hilda shut him up with a kiss. He melted against her as her fingers tangled in his hair. His hands went to her waist and pulled her into his lap.

“When do you want to get married?” he asked, breathless, when they pulled apart.

“Can we go now?”

Claude stood, took her hand, and ran with her back into the house. They laughed as they raced up the stairs and threw together their bags. Hilda left a note on Holst’s pillow before they left the manor. Claude had Luliwa saddled in a matter of moments. He helped Hilda mount, climbed up after her, and kissed her again. Then they soared away into the night.


	38. Chapter 38

Hilda’s heart raced as they landed a half mile from a village on the Fódlan side of Fódlan’s Throat, hid Luliwa’s saddle and tack, and made their way into town. The town chapel was small, and for a donation, the priest was willing to marry them right away. It wasn’t the way she’d envisioned her wedding. There were no fancy outfits, no lavish feast, no elaborate flower displays. But it was everything she needed. She and Claude—she was really going to have to start calling him Khalid—knelt before the altar, the village weaver serving as their witness while the priest performed the ceremony. When Claude kissed her at the end, it felt like her heart would burst from her chest.

His grin was the biggest she’d ever seen it as they strolled to the inn. The building also served as the village’s only tavern. Claude sauntered up to the barkeep, still grinning, and put an arm around Hilda. “I’d like to inquire about a room for me and my wife,” he said.

The barkeeper—who was also the innkeeper—and Claude haggled and exchanged funds for the key. Then Claude climbed up on a barstool, threw his arms wide, and exclaimed, “A round of drinks on me! I just married the love of my life!”

The room erupted in cheers. Someone produced a fiddle, another a drum, and the patrons dragged tables out of the way. Claude took her by the hand, and they fumbled through country dances. The locals made good-natured fun of their skills. Hilda and Claude whirled among them and laughed.

They stopped dancing long enough to eat a simple but hearty meal. Claude requested sweet buns first. When they arrived, Claude tore one apart and handed her half.

“In Almyra,” he said, “the first meal the couple eats together must start with something sweet, so that their marriage will be sweet as well. Then they feed each other their first bite, so that they may always provide for each other and share their joy.”

He held up his half of the bun, she held up hers, and they took a bite of each other’s portion. Claude’s lips closed around her fingers, and an electric jolt shot through her. She hadn’t felt something like that in a long time. His eyes sparkled at her as he chewed. She’d never seen him look so happy. It had been a long time since such happiness had swelled her heart, too.

They tucked into the rest of their meal of roast game hen with berry sauce and turnips on the side and finished with another sweet bun apiece. Wine and ale flowed, and soon the entire tavern was roaring with drunken laughter.

“You have some sugar on your face,” Claude said. He leaned forward and licked the corner of her mouth. A shiver ran the length of her.

“So, wife.” His smile was slow and seductive. “Interested in going upstairs? We might want to take advantage of all this noise. I don’t think the walls in this place are particularly thick.”

“Let’s go.”

Claude took her hand and led her up the stairs. No one seemed to notice them leave. They went to the room at the end of the hall. Claude carried her across the threshold and locked the door. It was a simple room—only a couple of chairs and a bed. Hilda didn’t want or need anything else.

“I love you,” Claude said as he laid her down on the bed. “I’m yours forever.”

Hilda exhaled, closing her eyes as he kissed her throat. “I love you, too.”

“You know all my secrets.”

“You know mine.”

“Then I guess there’s nothing separating us. Well, except these pesky clothes. Let’s see what we can do about that, shall we?”

His hands, his mouth, the strength and beauty of his body…Hilda hadn’t realized how much she’d missed them until they touched each other. Every kiss and caress said a thousand words, but all of them meant love. They took their time reacquainting themselves with one another, exploring old favorite spots and searching for new ones. It took a little while to find their rhythm, but when they did, Hilda had never felt anything like it. Claude’s fingers laced with hers as she wrapped her legs around him tighter. They breathed more heavily, their bodies slick with sweat. Hilda arched as the pleasure inside her built until she thought she’d burst. She moaned and clawed at his back as she finished, but Claude just chuckled.

“I’m not done yet,” he said.

He hooked her ankles over his shoulders, but Hilda barely noticed. Her body grew heavy and limp. He whispered Almyran in her ear as he caressed all the spots that revived the fires inside her.

“Say you’re mine,” he said between his teeth as his body tightened above her.

“I’m yours.”

“You’re mine what?”

Hilda gripped his arms. “I’m yours forever, Khalid.”

“Hilda,” he said, panting, and redoubled his efforts. He finished with a shivering cry and collapsed on top of her. They clung to each other, gulping air.

“You’re amazing.” The pillow muffled Claude’s voice. “I’m so happy you’re my wife.”

“You make me a happy wife. And a spoiled one, right?”

“Of course. Can’t help myself.”

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll spoil you, too.”

“You already do.”

He pushed himself up on his elbow. “I mean it. You’re my sun and moon.”

“And you’re mine.” Hilda ran her fingers through his sweat-matted chest hair. “I can’t wait to change the world with you.”

Claude kissed her and rolled off. She snuggled into his side, just like she always had. This was where she belonged. No matter where in the world they were, as long as she could be with him, she was home.

“What happens now?” Hilda asked.

“We get some rest, wake up, and do it all over again.”

“That’s not what I meant. You’re the crown prince of Almyra. I don’t imagine you get to just stay with me until your father steps down.”

Claude sighed and kissed her fingertips. “Sorry, my brain doesn’t want to work right now.”

“I always knew your brain was in your—”

“Ouch. Okay, fine. I’ll have to go back eventually. Do you want to come with me? It might not be the safest. I’ll have some work to do cementing my position, but I’d love to have you there. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Hilda took a deep breath as something twinged inside her. “I…I can’t. Not yet.”

“I understand. Then I’ll visit whenever I can. Every three months at the absolute minimum. I’m planning on making some diplomatic trips to Brigid, Dagda, and Morfis. I’d be honored if you’d accompany me.”

“Of course.” She glanced up at him. She loved how thick and dark his eyelashes were. “I’ll have Holst teach me more Almyran. I’ve heard him speak it.”

“He actually seems to know a lot about our culture. Her certainly understands our military structure and tactics.”

“Then I have a lot to learn. Bring me new things to study each time you visit.”

Claude cracked an eye open and smiled at her. “Did I just hear Hilda Valentine Goneril say ‘study’?”

“No. You must be losing your mind. It would have to be something more important than anything else for me to actually study.”

He snorted and kissed her on the forehead.

They slept and made love again in the morning. When they went down to breakfast, they learned of a cabin higher up in the mountains they could rent for a couple of weeks. They jumped at the chance. It was rustic, but it was private, and situated not too far from a natural hot spring. By the time they had to leave to go back to the manor, Hilda’s heart was full.

Holst gave them a talking to when they arrived, but really, her whole family was happy for them. Claude got to sleep in her bed without having to sneak down the hall, which was an excellent change. He stayed two more days, and then he needed to go.

“I’ll write every day,” Claude said as he kissed Hilda in the manor’s drive. Pearl snorted and bumped Hilda with her nose.

“I will, too. I’ll miss you.”

“It’s only for a while. We were apart for almost five years. We can weather this.”

“No more secrets,” she said, tapping him on the end of the nose.

He smiled, and her heart lurched at the sight. “No more secrets.”

Claude—no, Khalid—kissed her once more before he climbed up on Pearl. “See you soon.”

“Not soon enough,” she said with a smile.

Hilda watched until Pearl was lost among the clouds. She might have shed a few tears, but they quickly dried. Then she turned and went inside to talk to Holst.

She had a lot of work she had to make him do if she was going to become queen.


	39. Chapter 39

_Three Years Later_

Khalid stood at the gate to the palace, dressed in his finest. Almyra’s crown rested upon his brow, and he held another in his hands. The avenue before him was strewn with flower petals and lined with people. Brass instruments blared a triumphant tune.

Three years. Three years for this moment, for his life to become whole again. He scanned the distance for any sign of the procession but found nothing other than the cheering masses.

Everyone save a select group was surprised when he announced his choice of queen. Another queen from Fódlan? Some were offended. Some were curious. A few were even excited. Her maids, at least, still remembered her and looked forward to her return. Even his brother Bakur admitted that the new queen might be acceptable. Speaking of which, Nader owed him money for that bet.

A sparkle of gold caught his eye. The procession turned a corner, and there she was. Hilda waved at the crowd from atop her litter, perfectly elegant in her traditional Almyran dress. If anything, she’d grown more beautiful in the last three years.

Now she was here, and they’d never be apart again.

Khalid’s hands grew sweaty as she neared. Would they be able to live in close quarters, after so much time apart? Then their eyes met, and his worries vanished. They were happy together. Nothing else mattered.

The spectators screamed and the instruments blared as Hilda stepped down from the litter, as delicate as a cherry blossom and as strong as steel. She knelt before Khalid and bowed her head. He placed the crown upon her brow. She looked up at him, eyes shining, and he grinned.

“Good citizens of Almyra,” Khalid shouted, “show your new queen how we greet family!”

The crowd went even more insane, and people began to dance in the streets. And the celebration was just getting started. They’d held their wedding ceremony and feast yesterday—Hilda said it was more lavish than she’d ever expected—and they had her coronation feast tonight. If Khalid had his way, they’d find a reason to feast tomorrow, and the day after that. Was Hilda smiling at him a good enough excuse to hold a feast? He certainly hoped so.

“Excited?” he asked as he took her hand.

She smiled. “Relieved. I’m tired of being apart. Ten years together, and eight of them we hardly saw each other.”

Khalid couldn’t help it. He stopped and kissed her in front of everyone. He might have even used tongue.

Hilda purred and stroked the front of his jacket. “Mmm. I guess we should get started on making those babies we talked about?”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea. Let’s work on that right after the feast.”

“Our first act as royal couple.”

Khalid laughed. Her subtle wit was just one of the many, many reasons he adored her.

“You are going to be a fantastic queen,” he said as they passed beneath the enormous entrance arch to the palace. “Wait until you see our royal quarters.”

“And you are going to be a fantastic king. Wait until you see what I’m wearing under these clothes.”

Khalid grinned. With her at his side, he was complete. He was king, and the game was over.

Even better, he had won.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for sticking with this story to the end. I know it wasn't a trivial time investment! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments are greatly appreciated, and those of you who have already commented have my deepest gratitude. If you're a fantasy fan and would be interested in hearing about my original fiction as I go through my journey to publication, I have a mailing list signup form over on my website adpauli.com.
> 
> Thank you again for reading!


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